


A Man I’ll Never Be

by wantAwinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Unfinished, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24701839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wantAwinchester/pseuds/wantAwinchester
Summary: Sequel to the story More Than A Feeling. The work is nearly finished, but needs editing and a true ending. I haven’t felt any inspiration to write since my parents’ deaths 3.5 years ago and will not go back to this. Am posting what is written for anyone who is interested in seeing the next chapter in the saga of Brother Sam.Please don’t be too unkind.
Kudos: 2





	A Man I’ll Never Be

A Man I’ll Never Be

Prologue  
It is hundreds of years after the apocalypse set the demons of hell loose on earth leading to the destruction of most of the world’s natural resources and killing millions. The population has been reduced to small scattered settlements that are huddled around the world’s most precious resource – fresh water. In what used to be the United States of America three diverse organizations rose to power during the aftermath. The Techno-mage Priories who study and safeguard hoarded books and the ancient technologies of the previous age, the Federation of Bounty Hunters who train and regulate the hunters who are responsible for keeping the blasted lands free of demon kind, as well as Techno-magi and lastly the Bardic Colleges who train and regulate the entertainers who roam the lands and function as a source of news and announcements as well as entertainment for the settlements.  
These three powerful organizations function separately and discourage any kind of collaboration between their members, the Techno-magi in particular, who with their knowledge of technology frighten the general population as well as the members of the other organizations. The Techno-mage priories are also home to the cyborg. The demon wars killed millions and maimed millions more. The ancients were able to perfect their ability to fuse cybernetic parts with human beings by using the relatively new science of nanotechnology. This was a priority for the priories for many years after the wars ended and it is now one of their premier technological successes and while all the magi are feared, none are feared more than the cyborg. In this new world not all Techno-mage are cyborg, but all cyborg are Techno-mage because they are not welcome anywhere else and they carry the highest bounty on their heads. Their advanced parts are considered magical giving them an unfair advantage, making them untrustworthy, although in truth they are generally as peaceful as the rest of their brethren.  
Despite the suspicion and mistrust that has been encouraged by the leadership of the triad of organizations vying for power, very small pockets of resistance have begun to form as people discover that there are more commonalities than differences between them and that their goal of survival in this harsh and uncompromising environment is shared and can possibly be more easily attained by working together rather than living in continued isolation and fear. One such place has been established in an abandoned, but mysteriously well-kept underground stronghold of books and ancient technology. The recent discovery of the library complex by Dean Winchester, formerly a federation bounty hunter and his partner Brother Sam, a cyborg formerly of the Priory of Scion has lead them to not only re-examine the prohibitions placed on them by both their orders against mingling with the other orders but has extended to the recruitment of a small number of select students. These students will be cross-trained in all three disciplines and will eventually be sent out to the blasted lands to send the demons they encounter straight to hell, with no chance of return and to the settlements to spread the gospel of collaboration and shared knowledge.  
Part I - Capture  
“No, no, Elisa. Use the quarterstaff to attack as well as defend. Remember, it is extending your reach in order to keep you out of the range of most demons,” Brother Sam had been drilling their six students on the forms that when committed to memory by both muscle and mind become the art of the quarterstaff, the weapon favored by the magi. He had three unarmed students trying to get through the defenses of the students wielding their staffs, “Don’t forget to guard your lower body as well as your upper, Jason.”  
“Crap, Jenna! Do you have hit so fucking hard,” Michael was on the ground and rubbing at his head where he’d taken what would have been a killing blow had they been using unpadded weapons.  
Jenna extended a hand to her sparring partner and helped him off the ground, “It’s not my fault you were watching Elisa and not your opponent,” she laughed as he brushed the dust off his pants, “Ready to go again?”  
“Sam, will you please tell her she doesn’t have to land a killing blow every time,” Michael whined to their instructor, still kind of intimidated by the man’s size.  
“She’s doing her job, switch and see if she can work inside your defense. Remember when you’re attacking, every blow has to count because what’s out there isn’t going to give you a hand up and another chance. Nice job, Jenna,” the red-headed girl was the smallest of the bunch and also the most eager to prove herself. Sam admired her drive to prove that her size wasn’t going to limit her opportunities any more than her gender would, but also knew she loved knocking the other students, the guys in particular, on their asses as often as she could out the sheer perversity, “You don’t always have to knock them down, a tap in a kill zone counts in sparring.”  
Sam looked at the six students that Gabe and his fellow bards Rafe and Mika had found and brought to the library. Each of them had been extensively tested by Sam, Dean and Gabe in Lincoln before they were admitted to the school. Every person who was brought to the library swore blood oaths on Dean’s swords Courage and Honor to never reveal the location of the library or what kind of education they were receiving from the three men who’d recruited them. Two of the students were completely untrained in any discipline and of the other four two were hunters and two had studied at a priory. One of those, Nathan had taken his vows to his priory and the other, Jason had yet to take them. Jenna and Michael had been untrained when they were discovered by Gabe and the two hunters who’d joined them were Elisa and Aaron, both fairly new to the federation and to their twin blades so had not yet fully immersed themselves in the hunter culture. It was a good cross section with which to develop the courses that would be needed to prepare future students.  
There were now a total of eleven people living in the library complex and sharing most of the chores. Dean stopped his work on the barn they were building for their increased livestock and watched the students spar. Okay, he was really watching Sam watch the students, but he figured that was close enough. His partner was shirtless, like he usually was outside in order to charge the solar cell that helped his cybernetic arm function properly, and he was sweating. It was one of Dean’s most favorite sights, his own hot, wet golden giant….his baby, his forever. In front of the others Dean played down his love for his partner, he just wasn’t that comfortable with public displays of anything other than fighting, but the students all knew that there was no faster way to get on the Winchester shit list than to sass Sam or gods forbid accidentally hurt him.  
Sam was really good with the students, a couple who were closer to Dean’s age than his own. The mage had the patience to show someone the same thing over and over until they felt comfortable. Dean on the other hand liked to show things once and then let the students have at it while he walked around correcting forms. Different students responded to the different teachers in different ways and part of how they were separating them into what would become their specialties was by who responded better to which teaching method. It was just about time for the sparring session to finish up so Dean started to head over. He needed a few of the students to help with his next task on the barn and he wanted to catch them before they went inside and decided they didn’t need to work any harder.  
“Hey, Sammy!” Dean waved as he worked his way across the field, which was what they were calling the sorry patch of grass that grew outside the garage. “I’m gonna need a few of the students to help with the barn for the rest of the day.” The students all groaned they would normally have a free period until dinner unless they had kitchen or bathroom duties.  
The mage broke into a wide smile, his dimples popping into high relief as his partner approached. He felt like he’d known Dean his entire life and yet it had just been eight months since their first, almost fatal, encounter. “Hey there, Dean,” Sam walked to meet him as he neared and caught him in a one armed embrace which made him blush. Sam loved to see him blush. “Sure, no problem. All right, listen up everyone. Who’s on kitchen and bath duty this afternoon?” Nathan and Jenna raised their hands. “Everyone else go with Dean. Good job today! I can see improvement in everyone’s form,” Sam stopped the students heading to the barn, “leave your weapons, but take your water. We’ve got the rest. Jenna, Nathan let’s get to it, hustle.”  
Dean looked at his partner with respect. He never raised his voice or fists with the students and yet every one of them jumped to obey him and very, very rarely pushed back, “They love you cuz you’re such a pushover.” Dean bumped his shoulder into the giant’s firm bicep and grinned up at him.  
“Pushover, huh? I guess I’ll have to prove how firm I can be a little later,” Sam’s eyebrow quirked up even as he broke into another smile. “I know you looooovvvvveeee a little discipline, baby.” Sam slapped Dean’s ass as he moved away to help retrieve the staffs.  
‘Gods,’ Dean thought, ‘he really is perfect.’ He watched for a few more moments before moving off to the barn before someone hurt themselves.  
Breakfast and lunch at the library were informal affairs where everyone fended for themselves, but they all sat down together for dinner every night. They’d never made a formal seating chart but things had kind of fallen out along teacher/student lines anyway with Gabe, Sam and Dean at one end of the table and the students gathered more toward the other end. Once the barn was completed they were planning to add some chickens and a couple of cows to the horses they already had to help with feeding what they hoped would eventually become a full-fledged academy.  
“Mika’s due back tomorrow. She went pretty far afield so we’ll hopefully have some new information on what some of the more distant settlements are dealing with and the possibility of some new recruits,” Gabe picked at what was left on his plate as he continued. “Once I get her up to speed on where I’m at with my history, language and music classes I’m going to head out back the way you guys came. I’ll see if they’re still looking for you two and I plan to hit a few of the towns on market days and set up in the market area itself. With luck the magi trading will correctly interpret the riddle song and maybe we can pick up a couple more of them.”  
“We really could use the help with translating the texts and putting together anything they’ve studied or created at their home priories,” Sam moved to collect their dishes but was stopped by Dean’s hand on his arm, “Right, I forget it’s the students’ responsibility now.” Sam smiled he really was used to doing for himself and anyone else with them. “We’ve been lucky that nothing in here has needed any maintenance since we moved in. It makes me more than a little nervous that we know next to nothing of how this place works.”  
Gabe nodded, “You make a good point. I can stay out a little longer and work the area a little harder. There are trade goods back near your priory we can use as well, right Sam?”  
“Yes, you’d best take a cart with you and I can give you a list and what is a reasonable trade or cost.”  
Dean had been listening, but his mind had been working as well, “You know what? I think I should go with Gabe.”  
“Really? Why?” Sam hated the thought of being left without Dean, not just because he’d miss him, but because the last time they’d been apart had ended tragically for Sam.  
“Haven’t made up my mind, Sammy,” Dean took one of Sam’s hands in his and could feel him tremble slightly, “but you won’t be alone here. You’ll have the students and Mika and unlike the road, this place is well concealed.”  
“But why?” Sam was trying really hard to not panic at the thought of Dean leaving and tried to center his thoughts and breathe deep like Gabe had been teaching him, “What do you need that Gabe can’t bring back with him?”  
The hunter held his mage’s hand a little tighter, “I was thinking that while Gabe’s riddles might work fine for bards and magi, he’s going to have a tough time reaching out to hunters that way. Most of them are about as educated as I am and if you hadn’t explained the songs to me, I’d have just thought they were good songs, not messages. If I’m out there I can reach out to other hunters, test the waters, see if there are any who are starting to see the corruption we’ve witnessed.”  
“I know you don’t want him to leave, Sam, but he does make sense,” Gabe motioned to one of the students to begin clearing the table, “He won’t be alone and neither will you be. Elisa and Michael are excellent hunters and very competent with their blades. You’re also doing well with them although there’s not a man alive who can outmatch you when you’ve got your staff.”  
Sam fell quiet, he knew Dean’s reasoning was sound but he couldn’t help the anxiety he felt crawling through his body at the thought of being apart from him for even a day, much less the weeks this kind of trip would take. His logical mind knew he’d be safe at the library, but his emotional self was terrified at the prospect. He drew another couple of deep breaths before speaking, “It does make sense, it really does and I think you should go, but I won’t be comfortable until you’re back here safe and sound.” He blinked his eyes a few times and looked over at the students who were doing dishes to chase back the tears he’d felt pricking at his eyelids.  
“I shouldn’t have brought this up at dinner. I’m sorry Sammy,” Dean was truly sorry, he hated to make his mage uncomfortable but had been caught up in the planning and spoke before he’d realized it. “We can talk later and it’s not a done deal, just food for thought.”  
Sam squeezed Dean’s hand and excused himself from the table saying he needed to get his reading lesson ready. He really just needed a few minutes alone and knew he could have said that, but while he wasn’t feeling nearly as vulnerable as he did after his rape and torture earlier in the year, the thought of not having Dean nearby was bringing back some of the fear and vulnerability. He knew he needed be reasonable and let Dean go. Sam had felt for a few weeks now that his partner was restless. He’d been used to living on the road, even while growing up and staying in one place was as hard on him as constantly moving around would be on Sam. He’d finished writing his lesson on the whiteboard as his three students joined him; the others were with Gabe for the evening. Dean usually floated between the classes or spent time working through his latest book on his own and didn’t join Sam’s class that night.  
Later Dean stood under an almost scalding stream of water in the shower. He still couldn’t get over the fact that there was hot water at his beck and call as well as an almost endless supply of water for the entire library. Sam had explained to him that the water they used was recycled by being drained to an area far from the library complex where the dirt filtered it as it returned to the ground. Sam. He shouldn’t have brought up his desire to travel with Gabe at dinner he should have waited until they were alone. He’d been doing so well since Gabe walked in his mind that Dean had almost forgotten how frightened he’d be at his suggestion. It made sense though. Hunters weren’t going to trust a bard even if they did figure out the riddle song, he needed to go among them and speak their language if they were going to find any really experienced hunters to join them. He’d make it up to him and Sam would never hold it against him, but he felt like a shit.  
Sam was already in bed waiting on Dean. He knew he’d spend as long as he could in the shower and didn’t blame him – he liked it too. Thinking about his boyfriend in the shower, the water running in rivulets down his well-muscled body woke his dick up and he felt most of his blood head south. He hoped Dean would be too much longer. They shared the bathroom with Gabe and Rafe and he wouldn’t be able to just wander in naked and looking for Dean like he’d done more than once after they’d first moved in. Sam remembered the first time he’d seen Dean jerking himself off in the shower and smiled as he rubbed absently at his dick through the sheet. There was nothing subtle about Dean and he’d been so far into his fantasy that he hadn’t heard Sam enter the room. That was still one of Sam’s favorite sights.  
“Thinking about me, Sammy?” Dean stopped in their door, a drying sheet wrapped around his hips admiring his mage and watching as his hand rubbed his dick. “Let me help you with that baby,” he shut and locked their door and dropped his sheet, he was hard as well, before crawling up the bed to gently kiss Sam, brushing his hand away and starting to massage his now very hard cock. “Better, right?”  
Instead of speaking, Sam opened his mouth to Dean’s insistent tongue and let him lick his way in and all around his mouth before he pressed his own against his tongue and into his mouth. Sam loved the rush of desire that traveled down his spine when Dean’s tongue ravaged mouth and rarely fought him for domination of their kisses. The thought that Dean was taking as much pleasure as he was receiving made Sam tremble and both men were making the small sounds of pleasure that their kisses were always able to tease from them. Dean worked the sheet out of his way so that he could press his skin against Sam’s and continued to control their kiss while he drew his fingers up the length of Sam’s cock and then back down in a slow, almost lazy rhythm that had his partner’s hips thrusting up seeking more friction.  
“Easy, baby, I’ve got you. Let me take care of you,” Dean’s other hand was stroking through Sam’s hair while he continued to tongue fuck his mouth until Sam was almost begging him to start kissing him elsewhere, “Impatient are we?” Dean licked up from Sam’s collarbones and over his chin to trace his lips. “I think I want to take my time tonight. Gonna make you feel so good Sammy, show you how much I love you, how much I don’t wanna leave.”  
Dean kissed his way up and down Sam’s neck and bit at his collar bones before moving lower. One hand was teasing a nipple into hardness and the other cradling both his balls in their velvety sack and applying just the slightest pressure. He loved the sounds he was able to get out of Sam when he did this, when he just took responsibility for all of Sam’s pleasure. He was hard and using his own pre-come to slide himself against his love’s leg while he continued to work his way leisurely down his body.  
Using the slick that had pooled on Sam’s belly, Dean began to work his cock, adding a twist of his wrist at the head and rubbing his thumb lightly over his slit, laughing as he drew more moisture from Sam’s dick, “See, I know what you like, Sammy. I’ve got this.”  
Sam just about levitated off the bed when Dean finally took his cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue up and down his now almost painful erection. It was taking all of Sam’s control to not grab Dean and start fucking his mouth, his very pretty, very perfect mouth. The feeling of being engulfed in hot, wet, softness nearly drove Sam insane and his voice was rough as he spoke, “You know you look so very pretty with my cock in your mouth, those perfect lips pressed onto me,” he really was pretty this way and Sam watched as Dean worked him in and out of his mouth taking him deeper each time. He knew just where to lick, where to trap him between his mouth and tongue and how much suction he liked. It was a shame that he was positioned too far down the bed for Sam to reach his cock but he was able to take one of his hands in his and was rubbing the top of it with his thumb encouraging him without words.  
The hunter could tell his partner was close to his release when his breath started coming in small, almost panting gasps. He loved this, the part where his mouth alone caused Sam to come completely undone for him and he sucked a little harder and swallowed him just a bit deeper. Sam was thrusting gently and Dean let go of his cock and put a hand on each hip to steady him and let him thrust until he came, his release coating the back of his throat. He laughed to himself, he was so gone for Sam, this, them was his everything and some nights, he didn’t even care if he got off as long as Sam was content. Dean sucked lightly on the still hard dick in his mouth, working his baby through his orgasm and then slipped him carefully out of his mouth before moving up to kiss Sam and let him taste himself in his mouth.  
Sam broke the kiss and reached for Dean’s cock which was still leaking against his hip. He hadn’t heard him come and figured he’d be almost frantic for release by this time so was surprised when he batted his hand away and continued to kiss him as he pressed himself even harder into his side, “What do you want?”  
“I’ve got everything I want right here, don’t need anything else, Sammy. I got off in the shower, watching you come undone is all I need or want,” Dean continued to press gentle kisses against Sam’s mouth memorizing the feel of his lips against his.  
“You’re not, Dean, I can feel you, let me….”  
“No, Sam. It’s all about you tonight and every night until I go, let me do this for you, be this for you.”  
Sam’s hand was stroking the short hairs at the back of Dean’s head, they were soft and almost silky such a contrast from the rest of the hard body he was holding. “Dean, that’s not, I don’t need…..I want to.”  
“Shhhhhh, love. Maybe tomorrow, tonight just let me be with you.” Dean meant it and that alone kind of surprised him. He’d never been a selfish lover but hadn’t thought that another person would ever become so important to him, so much a part of his very being, that their pleasure would also become his. He was constantly surprised that the small things he did for Sam gave him so much satisfaction.  
Sam knew that once Dean made a decision he very rarely allowed the mage to change his mind and so he lay back and let him kiss, touch, lick and occasionally bite him until he was sated. He relished the feelings each kiss brought to the surface as he petted his love’s head and traced the cut of his muscles, as if memorizing their feel and placement for when he’d be gone.  
Sam soon felt Dean curl himself up against and into him, a leg and an arm thrown across him as if to prevent him from leaving. The mage was able to reach their quilt and pull it up over them both even as Dean was still rubbing circles on his chest. The mage wrapped an arm around his partner and whispered into his hair, “Dean? Not until you leave, okay? I’ll need you, all of you before you go.”

II.  
The next couple of weeks flew by as Dean and Gabe prepared for the trip back to their home territory. Dean allowed his beard and hair to grow in a bit in an effort to disguise his features. Sam thought it just made him that much more attractive and made it his mission to waylay him whenever he could in order to get him alone for a few minutes to kiss him and nuzzle into his new beard. He wanted to spend every second alone that they could; even though he knew he still wouldn’t get his fill of Dean before he left.  
The mage was resigned to his partner leaving and even knew it would be good for him, but couldn’t quite dismiss the vague feelings of dread and anxiety that started to bubble up whenever he spent too much time thinking about it. He attempted to ease his anxiety by reminding himself that Dean had spent many years on the road alone and was more than capable of handling anything that came along.  
Mika had found a couple more candidates for the school while away in the west and had told them to be in Lincoln for the interview process in four weeks. Gabe felt that he and Dean should spend a longer time in the northeast but consented to return in time to take part in the interviews. Rafe, who had been traveling in the south, returned right before the bard and the hunter planned to leave. He also had a couple of people lined up to apply for admission and had given them the same time frame to make it to Lincoln.  
The interview panel was made up of the three bards, the techno-mage and the hunter and a consensus was required to admit a person to the library/academy/school/resistance. They still hadn’t quite decided how to classify what they were trying to achieve but had come up with questions that they felt would both serve as a presentation of what they were looking for in terms of candidates as well as giving the applicants an overview of their philosophy. Before anyone was accepted and sworn in, they were made fully aware of the kind of risks that they were taking by joining the others.  
A couple bards were included in the people invited to interview for admission. Gabe hoped that they would work out since he felt that they needed at least two bards on the road full time recruiting for them. Additionally he thought that Dean was probably correct about the hunters not trusting anyone other than another hunter and thought that maybe they needed a mage/hunter pair recruiting as well. As pleased as they all were about their progress, they were still so far from affecting any real change that sometimes it felt like they were all standing still.  
A few days before Gabe and Dean were due to leave, Sam found himself alone for the first time in probably weeks as he sat outside watching their small herd and charging his arm. Even when he was living at the priory he had managed to find time every day for some solitude. It now seemed strange to not be surrounded by others, even if everyone was working on their own assignments and the only sound was the scratching of a pen on parchment. He constantly kept tabs on Dean and pretty much knew where he could be found at any minute of the day, not out of a sense of mistrust or worry but just because it made him feel complete to know where his other half was. He didn’t know how he’d survive the four weeks they’d be apart. He felt an actual physical ache when he thought of him not being there each night.  
Michael, one of the older recruits and untrained in any specific discipline, was working on the roof of the barn and saw his trainer sitting alone. He knew the pain of having to be separated from loved ones; he’d left his wife and two kids to come train with the others. He’d been intelligent enough to puzzle out the riddles and had for some time felt like the bodies governing the land had more information than they were funneling down to the general population. Michael had almost felt called to the cause since he knew that there were others who would never bother to rock the boat. He finished a row of shingles and put his things away before heading to where Sam was seated.  
“Hey Sam, mind if I sit?” Michael hesitated until Sam gestured for him to sit. “Copper for your thoughts, professor?”  
Sam chuckled both at the question and at being called professor, a word he’d introduced in his last lesson, “Good use of a vocabulary word, Michael but I don’t think they’re worth a whole copper.” The mage plucked at the sparse grass that was struggling to grow in the still somewhat toxic soil. “Pretty sure they’re not of much interest to anyone by me.”  
“What if I guess and come close?”  
Sam just shrugged sure no one could understand the depth of the loneliness that he was already feeling just thinking about Dean leaving.  
Michael let the silence between them drag out for a couple of moments before he started speaking. “You’re wondering if any of this worth the sacrifice of someone you love. If the end result will have a large enough impact on the way things work to make the time apart and the accompanying loneliness worthwhile. You’re wondering how you will go through each day without the comfort of seeing or speaking to the person who makes you feel whole, the person who is your happiness.”  
Sam looked at the other man, surprised he’d been so accurate in his assessment, “Am I that transparent?”  
“Not at all, unless you know what it feels like to be without those you love,” Michael stared at the horizon as he steadied his voice. “I’m married and I have two kids.”  
“But…..” Sam’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.  
“I know, you were looking for applicants without family commitments and I lied,” Michael paused as he gathered his thoughts. “I’ve thought, felt, for some time now that things aren’t as…..as simple or as straightforward as our governing bodies would like us to believe. Also, who’s looking out for the rest of us, you know the ones not affiliated with a core governing body? We both know it’s no use asking, no one outside of the orders knows anything and well, you guys aren’t exactly sharing with the rest of us.”  
The mage turned so that he was looking at his student, studying him in a new light. He wasn’t wrong no one told the general population much of anything. The ruling bodies each sent representatives to the towns and cities to present the mayors and town managers with the things they wanted everyone to know. Sam had never been to one of the meetings or even seen what was presented, but he knew the priories kept secrets and was sure the others did as well.  
“Anyway, I took the family out when Gabe was in town to hear him sing. He’d been to our town before and my wife and I like his music. He played his new pieces and they stuck with me. I went back the next night and requested them. I was alone so I could pay closer attention to the words. I’ve always been good at word games and the message just hit me. I went home and talked to Allison, my wife, and we both decided I should at least speak to Gabe before he left, check to make sure I’d interpreted the songs correctly.”  
Michael sipped from his water bottle before continuing, “I caught up with Gabe the next day before he left town and he told me about a school that was being formed and invited me to Lincoln to meet the rest of you. I passed the interview process and here I am. I’m not sorry, Sam. I miss them every minute of every day, but I know what I’m doing will hopefully make things easier for my boys. Both my wife and decided that if you accepted me, I’d stay here and contribute in any way I could.”  
“It’s funny that you never actually know how alone you’ve been until you’re not anymore. I can’t stand the thought of him leaving, but we both knew that there would be sacrifice involved in what we were starting. We can’t ask anything of you guys that we wouldn’t do ourselves, but it is going to be hard. Fortunately, I won’t be alone in my suffering as I’ll have all kinds of spare time to run drills, check on the progress of the barn, listen to translations and think up projects for anyone who needs something more to do,” Sam smiled at the other man, it didn’t hurt to let him think he was teasing. “Besides, Dean will have my head if I go too soft on you while he’s gone! Let’s get these animals in,” the mage got up and held his hand out to help his student. “Once you’re more comfortable with your weapons we can see about sending you on a recruiting trip to your home town. That is if you think your boys could keep your visit a secret. I don’t know what your wife is telling people about your absence, but I assume you popping up would probably break that story.”  
“Thanks Sam. Don’t make special rules for me I knew what I was getting into when I signed on. I just wanted you to know that if you need someone to talk to while Dean’s gone, I’ll understand,” Michael had the lead mare and most of the horses started to follow her in, leaving just a couple of stragglers for Sam.  
“It’ll be nice when the barn’s done and we can move these guys to a proper stable,” Michael commented as he put the horses in the corner of the garage they’d roped off for them. “I don’t think this floor, whatever it’s made of, is very good for their feet. It has no give at all.”  
“Dean says it’ll be a couple more weeks, what do you think?” Sam asked as they headed down the stairs and into the main part of the building.  
___________________________________________  
After a trip to Marshalltown to re-supply the library and pages and pages of instructions about everything from what still needed to be finished in the barn to how to unclog one of the ‘toilets’, Dean and Gabe felt that they were ready to leave for four weeks. The day before they planned to head out the two of them searched through the storeroom one final time looking for things that would bring the highest trade value where they were going. They had Sam’s priory maps and knew where they could stop for the night, provided the cabins were empty, but they were prepared to sleep rough if necessary.  
“You really think he’ll be all right?” Dean asked as he sorted through a box of trinkets they’d collected from the empty bedrooms.  
“Sam?” Gabe shrugged, “You said he’s stopped having the nightmares he can’t wake from, right?”  
Dean nodded, “But what if when I’m gone he has one and no one’s there to help him wake up, help him know he’s safe?”  
“You don’t have to come with me. I can do this all on my own, although I think you made a good point about recruiting hunters and we can’t leave the students here without one of you on hand. The library likes you two, and just tolerates the rest of us.”  
“Yeah, I know. I’m probably worrying too much, but if you’d seen him….”  
“I did, in your minds, I saw and I understand. For what it’s worth, I think he’s much, much stronger than when I first joined you here. You can see the confidence in his face. Don’t forget that Rafe sleeps in the same section we do, his room isn’t that far and if Sam really gets caught in a nightmare, Rafe should be able to talk him out of it and back to consciousness,” Gabe was studying a really nice pair of daggers. “These are really beautiful, too nice to trade. Someone here should be able to put these to good use.” He set them aside and went back to sorting. “Will you be all right?”  
“What?” Dean looked up from his box and into the bard’s eyes.  
“It’s not a sin to admit you’ll miss him, that you’re no longer sure how to be just you anymore. It happens to all of us,” Gabe smiled at the hunter who was trying very hard to act as if leaving didn’t bother him at all.  
“Us? Who are you leaving?” Dean kind of smirked at the thought of the bard being attracted to anyone, he was so, so…..separate, so self-contained.  
“You can smirk all you want, but there is a girl I met at the college, Anna. She and I were like two sides of the same coin, different, but conjoined. Like you and Sam. We both knew the life we’d chosen, the way of the bards, meant we’d spend most of our lives apart. Able to see each other at convocation and the occasional chance meeting on the road, but we loved each other anyway. Still do. It is possible to be apart and not lose the close bonds of a good relationship. It often strengthens the bonds in ways that even I can’t explain.”  
Dean looked at the smaller man with new respect. He couldn’t imagine having to spend the majority of the rest of his life without Sam nearby. It occurred to him, not for the first time since meeting Sam, that the isolation preached by their orders was working to ensure that their separate memberships stayed that way and that there was little opportunity for collaboration even within the same order. “I’m sorry Gabe, I didn’t know and I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you both.”  
“Thanks. We knew what we’d be faced with, but felt drawn together despite the odds. I plan to ask her to join us here the next time I see her,” Gabe sighed. “Did you find anything over there that’s worth taking with us?”  
Dean brought his few finds to Gabe who then wrapped and packed each item into their travel packs, “I hope you find her soon,” Dean said softly as he put a hand on one of Gabe’s shoulders and squeezed. “I really do.”  
Dinner that night had a celebratory air to it. Sam, with the help of a couple of the students, had gone all out and made all of Dean’s favorite foods, chicken and dumplings, cornbread, beans and bacon, an apple/raisin crisp and a couple pear pies. It was a feast and Sam hoped that Dean would feel the love he poured into the prep and be able to think back on it after he left and know that Sam would be waiting for him to return.  
Conversation around the full table revolved around the guys’ travel plans as well as requests from everyone for things they wanted. Gabe and Dean ended up with more coins and small trinkets to pack away along with lists of wants and yet another list of library needs. Gabe quipped that they would need the four weeks just to get the shopping done never mind the actual travel, performances and recruiting of additional students. Even Sam and Dean managed to put aside their fears about their impending separation and join in the fun.  
After dinner the bards performed for the assembled group separately and as an ensemble. The wine and mead were flowing and everyone was red cheeked from laughing, singing and dancing. Dean had to stop Sam from continuously filling his plate with the various desserts.  
“Enough, Sammy, I’m going to explode and if I don’t my horse will founder from the extra weight he has to carry tomorrow!” Dean laughed and pulled his mate in for a kiss. He just touched Sam’s lips with his tongue and it was enough to send a current of pure lust from his mouth through his body to his dick. Yeah, he thought, neither of us is sleeping much tonight.  
Sam pulled out of the kiss almost trembling with desire, his eyes the passionate stormy grey that reflected his own lust, “Can’t have you forgetting me too quickly,” he whispered, his voice tight with emotion.  
“Never, Sammy. It’s not possible, I love you,” was the whispered response as Dean pulled him closer for another, slightly longer and deeper kiss. “Couldn’t live without you, us, this. Told you, baby, you’re my forever,” the hunter smiled and brushed his mage’s hair behind his ear. It was longer than ever and he found that he really liked playing with it. He made room and pulled Sam onto the couch next to him and let him wrap his long arms around him. He was going to miss him.  
Sam tried to relax as he held Dean half on and half off his lap, one of Dean’s legs draped over his and his head resting in the space between his shoulder and neck that seemed was custom made just for him. The music was good, but his thoughts weren’t on the bards. He couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of dread that had been plaguing him since Dean announced that he planned to travel with Gabe. He was sure it was a consequence of his own experience and the traumatic dreams and visions that had trapped him in that hellish cabin until Gabe walked in his mind and showed him that his tormentors were indeed dead and gone. It wasn’t like the gift he shared with Gabe had ever manifested itself as a vision of the future, so he was sure his conflict was related to the past. Even so, he wouldn’t rest easily until Dean was back in the library, back in his arms just like he was tonight.  
The last song ended on a minor fall and the notes sent a shiver down Sam’s spine that even Dean felt. The hunter looked up at him with a question in his eyes. Sam managed to pull himself together enough to respond, “It’s nothing; I’m just a little chilled.”  
Dean held his love’s gaze a moment longer and was reassured when he saw nothing but the fear that had been haunting them both recently, “Well then, let’s get you warmed up.” He stood and offered a hand to Sam, who took it as he rose.  
The students were picking up the empty cups, glasses, plates and silverware. Even Gabe had resigned his kitchen clean up duties to them. The bards were carefully loosening the strings on their instruments and packing them away as Sam and Dean said goodnight and started to slip down the hall to their room.  
“Don’t forget, Dean, we should be ready to go as the sun comes up so we can get to that first cabin tomorrow night,” Gabe helpfully reminded them as they left.  
“Dawn’s early light my ass”, Dean grumbled as he pushed through their door.  
Sam laughed, he knew Dean, although a hunter through and through, was not a morning person and would stay in bed until half the morning was gone if anyone would let him. “You can sleep in the saddle; your horse will follow Gabe’s.”  
“Yeah, and have Gabe remind me of it for the rest of my life! No thanks, I’ll manage,” the hunter pulled his shirt off and tried to slip by Sam so he could empty his bladder but his mate caught him before he could open the door and backed him up against it.  
“Not so fast,” Sam pressed himself into the hunter, took his face in both hands and lifted his head so that he could kiss his mouth open and lick his way into his mouth. He could feel the other man’s rigid cock pressing into his thigh as he worked his own aching cock into the joint of Dean’s hip. Both men moaned with pleasure and Sam deepened his kiss. The warm, wet interior of Dean’s mouth drove him crazy and he felt goose bumps raise as Dean worked his own tongue around his and into his mouth. He didn’t want to release Dean, didn’t want to ever let him go and he tried to pour all of that feeling into the shared kiss.  
Dean slipped his hands under Sam’s shirt and felt his way up his chest as their tongues continued to dance in and out of each other’s mouths. As much as he wanted to lick, suck and fuck Sam through the night right now he was impatient to see the cut of Sam’s muscles and sleek, impossibly soft cybernetic arm. Wanted to see all of him, to memorize what he’d be away from for what felt like would be forever. Working his hands steadily up Sam’s chest he managed to convey to Sam that the shirt needed to go.  
The mage broke their kiss long enough to finish pulling his shirt over his head. He still had one hand at the back of Dean’s neck playing with the short hairs there. His other he worked in between the door and Dean’s back where he could slip his hand into his pants and down the firm ass until he was pulling the other man even closer still. They broke to gulp in air only to dive back into each other’s mouth. Sam relished the little sounds the hunter was making as he again completely dominated their kiss, pouring everything he couldn’t say into each touch of his tongue and caress of his lips.  
Dean finally broke their kiss and pulled his love in closer, close enough to lay his head on his shoulder as he tangled a hand in his hair. “Don’t want to go, have to go. Want to stay here,” he punctuated each word with a kiss on Sam’s neck, “But baby, I have to go if this is going to work and having started what we have, I can’t just turn back. I can’t leave it to someone else. I know others would….could, but that’s just a man I’ll never be and I don’t think you’d really want that either.”  
“I know. I love you for who you are and I know,” Sam drew back enough that he could look into the green eyes that he knew would dominate his dreams for the next weeks as he tried to sleep alone in their bed. He lowered his mouth and kissed Dean again, this time his lips soft and gentle, even as he pulled lightly at his hunter’s pouty lower lip. “I know.”  
The two men stayed locked in their embrace for a few more minutes before Dean broke away and nodded toward the bathroom, “I’ll be right back, promise. Undress for me?”  
Sam backed up and let Dean get the door open enough that he could slip out before falling back against it and resting his forehead there, his cock throbbing and a kernel of dread lodging deep in his gut, eating away at his sense of peace. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the trinket he’d had with him all day. The silver ring was slightly scratched which dulled its shine giving it a patina that showed it had been worn before, hopefully with love.  
When the infant Sam was left at the priory he was left with two items, one from each of his parents. His mom had left him an ivory comb that he had used his entire life, wondering where his mother was and if she missed him. The other item, the trinket left for him by his father, was the silver ring. Sam had never worn it. He’d resisted, hoping that one day he’d find someone he’d be able to share his life with and had promised himself that he’d give the ring to that person with his promise of eternal love. That the person was Dean was something he’d known almost immediately after meeting him. He hadn’t thought at the time that anything would come of his instinctual attraction to the hunter who would have taken his head, but he knew at the core of his being that there would never be anyone else.  
After slipping his pants off and folding them before setting them aside (priory habits were really hard to break), he sat at the edge of their bed waiting for his love, his mate to return. He didn’t think Dean would refuse the gift and he’d told him before that he’d love him beyond forever, but he was nervous nonetheless. The ring was a true symbol of the never ending and would bind the vow he was making. It was the only thing he’d been able to think of that helped calm the dread he felt at the thought of Dean leaving.  
Dean looked into his own eyes in the reflective glass that Gabe had told them was called a mirror and searched for any signs of the man he’d been before fate had brought Sam to him. That he’d actually worked to overcome the years and years of prejudice that he held against the priory system had been less surprising than the visceral pull of the sexual attraction he’d felt for Sam almost from the first. He’d never believed people that said they knew their mates the moment they met them, it was too much like a fairy tale. The quiet, intelligent man had fascinated him from the get go and the hours they’d spent together as he recovered were still some of his best memories. Yet here he was leaving the one person he’d come to depend on and who, in turn, depended on him. With one more glance into his own conflicted eyes he left the room and returned to his mate.  
After closing their door, the hunter drew a breath and turned to Sam, his Sam. The younger man had undressed, lit a few candles and turned out the other lights. His hair and golden skin glowed in the soft light and he looked…..perfect. More importantly he loved him; he had looked past his own fears to reach out and save his pathetic life. Dean knew Sam was better than he was in every way that counted and knew he’d never be able to completely understand the depths of the man he loved.  
“Dean,” Sam’s voice cracked slightly with emotion.  
The hunter slipped his own pants off and left them in a puddle on the floor (hunter habits were hard to break as well) before falling to his knees in between Sam’s legs and placing his hands on his solid thighs, “I’m here, baby.” He moved one of his hands towards the almost purple and leaking cock between them.  
“No, wait,” Sam drew a deep breath to steady himself before continuing, “I love you. Heart, mind, body and soul and will beyond this life. Having grown up the way I did, orphaned at the priory, I didn’t really completely understand how deeply one person could possibly love another….until you.” The mage looked up and into his hunter’s eyes, “I…..I didn’t think….no, didn’t believe that this kind of overwhelming emotion even existed outside of the old books. I was wrong and,” his voice trailed off as he opened his right hand to show the ring to Dean. “and I hope, but don’t know, that this was once a symbol of that kind of attachment. It’s the other thing that was left with me when my parents, or whomever, abandoned me at the priory gates. It’s large enough to be a man’s so I’ve always believed it belonged to my father.”  
Dean sat back on his feet, the impact of Sam’s words taking away his ability to steady himself, “Sam, I…..”  
“No, shhhhh, let me finish,” the mage’s cybernetic hand brushed against Dean’s cheek and he turned his face and kissed the palm as he held the Sam’s hand to his face with his own. “I know you need to take this trip, do this job and you’re right that if you were any other way, you wouldn’t be the man I’ve loved almost from first sight. I will be here surrounded by the home we’ve been making. I’ll encounter memories of you in every room and in every task. You will never be far from my thoughts. So, I’d like you to wear this so that there will be a part of me with you wherever you go,” Sam slipped the ring over the middle finger on his mate’s left hand. “When you look at it, this circle with no end, no beginning, I want you to think of the love we share, the bond that we’ve formed and know that no matter the minute, hour or day that you are in my thoughts and that you have my love. My heart, mind, body and soul…..today, tomorrow, forever and always, I’m yours and only yours.” Sam was crying as he stammered out the last of the vow he’d wanted to make.  
“I….I’m….I can’t……..don’t have the words you do, but I do love you and the worst days of my life were the ones when I didn’t know if you’d survive long enough for me to let you know what you meant to me. There will never be anyone else for me but you, Sam. Right, wrong, treasonous, I am yours and your happiness is my happiness. I love you and I always will.”  
Sam lowered his head and kissed at Dean’s mouth, softly, tenderly at first, his hands brushing away the tears that were falling even as they sealed the vows they’d made to each other. The mage was able to pull Dean up onto the bed and his chest as he lay back on the pillows, never losing contact with his mouth. The change in position brought their cocks in contact with each other and each man groaned with the pleasure of finally being able to rub against each other and relieve some of the pressure. Sam broke their kiss again and moved his mouth to Dean’s ear. He tugged at it gently before whispering, “Dean, will you……I’d like….show me Dean, make me yours tonight.”  
The hunter’s heart stopped for a brief moment as he considered Sam’s words carefully making sure he heard him correctly. He was more than fine with their relationship the way it was and the last thing he wanted was for his mage to feel any kind of pressure to offer himself to him. He cradled Sam’s face in one of his hands and turned his head so that he could look him in the eye, “You sure, baby boy? There’s no pressure, I….”  
“I’m sure Dean, I want this, want you. I’m better, I really am and it’s time. Want to feel YOU in me, need this before you go,” Sam placed soft kisses on the mouth that was in perfect range and as sweet as ever. “Please?”  
It was the soft ‘please’ that nearly broke the hunter in a million small pieces and reminded him that it was all about Sam, that he needed this to feel OK about him leaving and gods help him, he’d do anything for Sam. “Gods, Sammy,” Dean kissed him deeply, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss. “Anything for you.”  
Dean worked his way down Sam’s neck biting and sucking light marks that would fade by morning but now stood out like beacons on his golden skin. With each kiss, each nibble and every lick of his tongue he consciously willed his love and admiration for the younger man through his skin and into his very lifeblood. He wanted Sam to feel loved and cherished while he was away, wanted him to know how very much he was wanted.  
The young mage strained against the body pinning him to the bed, impatient even as the perfect mouth of his love was covering his skin with kisses. He knew Dean wouldn’t be rushed, that when he made up his mind to prolong their lovemaking that he stayed the course and made the most of every touch, taste, sound and sight as he gave as much pleasure as he took. Sam knew if he caught his eye, he’d smirk at the naked want that was reflected in his own eyes and just go even more slowly.  
Nothing was more beautiful to the hunter than the sight of his mate under him, writhing with pleasure and need. Arching his back to try to get some friction against his turgid and slippery cock, every sound from his mouth confirmation that Dean knew all his most sensitive spots and how best to stimulate them. As he reached for the bedside table to grab the small vial of oil they used as lubricant he saw the ring Sam had given him flash in the candlelight and felt again the comforting weight of the vows they’d made to each other that night. Four weeks was going to feel like an eternity and yet he knew it was nothing compared to what Gabe and Anna had been faced with.  
Wrapping his hand around his love’s cock he encouraged him to fuck up into his hand as his other hand warmed the oil he’d applied. Once it was warmed enough he held Sam’s cock still and licked at his slit savoring the sweet tasted of the pre-come that had been liberally leaking from it for a while now. As he began to swirl his tongue around the crown and suck it gently he also began probing gently at his puckered opening. First running his fingers across it and then pressing against it ever so gently. Spreading the oil around to help soften the tissue he’d soon be stretching.  
Sam stopped thinking as soon as Dean sucked the tip of his cock into his mouth and teased at his slit with his tongue. His body was on fire, every nerve, every cell in a heightened state of sensation. He opened his eyes and watched as Dean licked his cock clean of the slick he’d been pumping out for some time. Dean’s eyes were closed as he licked, kissed and sucked. Sam thought he’d never seen anything more sensuous than this. He tensed at the first brush of Dean’s fingers against his hole but was able to fight past the initial panic by looking again at the man who was using his mouth to make him relax even as he continued to gently brush and press at his opening.  
He’d felt Sam tense when he first touched his hole and he sucked his cock a little deeper into his mouth and used his tongue to press him against the roof of his mouth as he sucked gently while continuing to very lightly touch his opening. Dean felt Sam begin to relax and he pressed against the puckered opening a little harder. He felt Sam place his hand on his head, not in panic, but in encouragement and he pressed his finger to the first knuckle while continuing to suck his cock.  
After a very brief flash to the cabin where he’d been violated Sam pulled himself back to the present and drew a deep breath, consciously relaxing as he exhaled. Dean’s finger didn’t hurt and he caressed Dean’s head, indicating he was all right as he continued to breathe as slowly as his body would allow.  
Dean felt him relax again and pressed his finger all the way in, gently moving it around and stretching the tight band of muscles at his opening as carefully as he could. He never stopped sucking, kissing and licking Sam’s cock and judging just of the sounds he was making he was doing all right so far so he very carefully pressed a second finger into his ass. Stopping briefly to give the younger man a minute or two to adjust before he really began to move his fingers, in and out as well as around working to help Sam relax internally until he found his prostate (he’d learned that word in a book Gabe had given him) and pressed both his fingers into the small gland.  
Sam almost levitated off the bed as Dean pressed inside him in what had to be the sweet spot he’d told him about, the prostate according to Gabe who seemed to know a little about everything, he was certain that the students who were in a different corridor could have heard him cry out. The waves of pleasure were spreading through his body like circles from a pebble thrown into still water. “More…..please…..more,” he managed to gasp out.  
Not stopping for a second, Dean chuckled, Sam’s cock still deep in his mouth, and added a third finger. He tried to go slowly, but Sam wasn’t having it, he was actively fucking himself on his hand and Dean let his cock slip out of his mouth as he watched his fingers moving in and out of his love’s ass. He was moving in and out easily at this point and Sam was clearly not in any kind of distress so he oiled his own, almost painfully, hard cock. He jacked himself a few times to help relieve some of the pressure and hoped that once he got himself buried in Sam’s ass he could last more than and couple of strokes. His baby boy was easily the sexiest thing he’d ever seen and watching him work himself on his hand had just about done him in a couple of times already.  
“Don’t stop, Dean! Please don’t stop,” the mage cried as Dean withdrew his fingers and rubbed gently at the puffy, red tissue of his now soft hole.  
Smiling the hunter stretched himself up to place a kiss on Sam’s pouting mouth, “Not stopping, baby boy, just moving on. You ready?”  
“Gods yes,” the mage was breathing heavy and squirming, trying desperately to get some friction on his still leaking cock. “Take me, please, Dean please fuck me.”  
The want he heard in Sam’s voice dissolved any remaining doubts he had that Sam might not be ready for this and he kissed him once more, working his tongue deeply into Sam’s mouth as he placed the head of his cock against his stretched hole. He had one hand tangled in Sam’s hair as he eased himself into Sam’s channel as slowly and gently as he could. “Gods, baby, so sweet, so hot. Sammy….so perfect. Tell me, baby if you need me to stop, please Sammy let me know.”  
Sam opened his eyes and locked them with Dean’s, “I will Dean, but please don’t stop. Love you, want this so much.”  
“Sammy…..” it was just a whisper of sound as he lowered his mouth and kissed Sam again as he continued to push himself inside him. He moved slowly thrusting gently while working his way in until he was fully seated. He’d nearly come about five times, Sam was so tight, so impossibly tight and hot. The sounds he was making were so sweet, so full of love, pleasure and the smallest bit of pain, which Dean hurried to soothe away as soon as he heard the change of tone.  
“Dean.” Sam managed to make the name mean everything and hearing his name said that way was the best thing Dean had heard, ever.  
“Love you, Sammy. Remember, let me know if, if anything,” Dean began to rock his hips slowly, pulling himself out in small increments before moving back in while watching Sam’s face and listening for any signs of distress. He gradually sped up and was soon able to pull almost all the way out and thrust in easily, Sam’s moans and the repetition of his own name spurring him on. He built himself up to an almost punishing pace and knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He slipped his hand between them and wrapped it around Sam’s which was already on his cock and helped him work himself in time with his own thrusts.  
Dean was hitting his sweet spot almost every thrust and he felt the sensation spread from his groin outward through his body, almost like blood flow, touching every nerve as it washed through him. Once he felt Dean’s hand wrap around his own Sam knew it was over. They jacked his cock a couple more times before his release burst from him, hitting Dean’s chin and covering both their hands as he pumped fluid out in waves until there wasn’t a cell in his body that didn’t feel his release.  
The hunter worked his love through his orgasm before he allowed himself to give in to the orgasm he’d suppressed for too long now. As Sam pumped the last of his release into his hand he thrust hard one more time and came with Sam’s name on his lips. He’d never come so hard. He felt as though the essence of his very being was being shot into his baby’s ass and he wanted to give him even more! He continued to thrust through the after-shocks and wanted to stay embedded in Sam’s ass even as his cock became so sensitive it began to ache.  
“Love you, baby,” Dean whispered again as he slipped his now almost flaccid cock from his mate’s channel, feeling some of his release come with it. “You doing OK?” He nuzzled into Sam’s neck while keeping most of his weight on his arms, “You hurting?”  
Sam shifted position enough to move Dean to his side and turned to face the other man, his love, his life. “I’m fine, I’m good, better than good. How….I….shit, how could it be better? I never…..”  
Dean stopped combing his fingers through Sam’s hair and pressing kisses on his face long enough to answer, “I wish, I wish……I’m so glad it was good for you. I’m still so sorry.”  
“Hush, Dean. It was never your fault and now that I know what it’s supposed to be like, I don’t think the memories will bother me again. This was my first time Dean, the other is like it never happened.” Sam returned his hunter’s kisses as they lay quietly on their sides. He could feel Dean’s release leaking from his only slightly sore ass and thought that there was really nothing better and if that made him kind of sappy, so be it.  
“I should have thought to bring a cloth from the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” Dean moved to get up but Sam tightened his hold and kept him at his side.  
“Don’t get up, it’s fine, I’m fine. I don’t want you to go anywhere right now,” Sam reached for the blanket they’d kicked to the floor and pulled it up over both of them. “Love you so much.”  
“I’m so lucky. You are one of a kind, Sammy. In all the best possible ways,” Dean relaxed back into Sam’s embrace and pressed up against his side so every possible inch of his length was touching him. “Going to miss you.”  
“Dean?”  
“Sammy?”  
“Hurry home.”

III.  
The Reverend Sister Devora of the Priory of Chesapeake stopped and looked at the ruin located in the distance on the edge of a once great lake. The building had exhibited relics considered old at the time of the Demon Wars and those exhibits were now a shadow of their former selves. The museum had been plundered ages ago and stripped of anything considered valuable and then again a second time for anything even remotely useful as the citizens of this metropolis fled to find arable land to live on after the collapse of civilization.  
As the head of the Priory system and one of the leaders of the triumvirate coalition that governed the area formerly known as the United States of America, Devora was always on the road. It was her job to oversee the priories and to ensure that the documents and knowledge housed there continued to be protected. That research into the technologies of the past was being discovered, tested, executed and then distributed or hidden from the general population as determined by the triumvirate.  
The Reverend Sister was in her 50’s, not particularly old, but no longer young enough to enjoy the constant travel required by her position. She longed to retire and spend her life governing from one place but was now faced with a dilemma of gigantic proportions which she alone would have to straighten out while still protecting her position in the Alliance. Unfortunately the brother she had been grooming to take over her traveling mission was killed by some angry citizens in a dispute he was adjudicating over water rights in a small town. It was one of the pitfalls of keeping the orders separated from the general population. While the mystery enhanced her overall control over what people believed about the techno-magi, it also bred resentment and distrust which did occasionally spill over into violence and death. Still, it was a small price to pay, all things considered.  
She and her counterparts from the Bardic College and the Hunter Federation had worked for years to achieve the balance of power that existed between them; a balance that allowed them to control what the general population believed and the type and amount of resources to which they had access. The fact that the majority of the citizens (as well as the lower level initiates of their own orders) believed that the surface water was still toxic, was a testament to the kind of power they possessed. Fortunately, the time for collaboration was coming to an end and Devora knew exactly what she wanted to change and how to do so.  
“All right Brother Jeremy, let’s get moving and get this over with,” Devora sighed as she kicked her horse back into motion. “This emergency meeting has totally thrown off my scheduled priory visits and it will be weeks before we can make up for the lost time.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” Brother Jeremy and the other guard Brother Joshua were twins who had been priory raised almost from birth. Devora was trying to decide if one of them would make a suitable replacement for her and had been testing them as they traveled. She considered the upcoming meeting their biggest test of all.  
“I expect we’ll be there in a little less than an hour,” offered Joshua, “unless we encounter rogue citizens.”  
“There shouldn’t be many people left in the city, this place has been deserted for decades,” Jeremy countered.  
“Let’s just keep moving we’re slightly early for the meeting anyway. I hope the others are either already here or not too far behind. I don’t want this unscheduled stop to last any longer than absolutely necessary,” Devora, kicked her horse into a canter leaving the boys the catch up.

“Do you think we’ll make the priory cabin by nightfall?” Dean asked the bard when they stopped to rest and water their horses and ponies. The hunter could read the priory maps well enough but still preferred to leave the reading up to someone else when he could.  
Gabe glanced at the map again before rolling it up and putting it away in the case with the others, “Yeah. I’d say we’ve got another 3 maybe 3 and a half hours of travel before we’re close enough to start looking for the signs. It will put us in the cabin before it’s fully dark.”  
“Good. I don’t think this area is too over run with demon activity, I haven’t seen any signs, but I’d rather sleep in the shelter of the concealed cabin than out in the open. Not sure I feel like battling demon kind tonight.”  
“Kind of tired? Didn’t sleep well?” The bard grinned at his companion. He knew how hard it was to leave loved ones behind when you had to travel for business and it was the first time Sam and Dean had had to part since they found the library and set up their permanent home there. He was sure they’d been up all night.  
“Slept like a baby thank you,” Dean replied. In truth, he and Sam had slept very little but he didn’t mind. He’d choose his partner over sleep any day of the week and the thought of being away from him created an emptiness in his soul that he knew wouldn’t dissipate until he was back home. He rubbed at the ring Sam had given him the night before as if touching it would alleviate some of his home sickness. “Traveling by horseback, while faster, is a little more complicated, that’s all.”  
Gabe laughed and shook his head at his friend’s words but refrained from further teasing for the time being. He’d be traveling with Dean for weeks and had plenty of time to poke at him about how gone over Sam he was. Not that Gabe thought there was anything wrong with it, quite the opposite. As a bard there was nothing he liked more than an epic romance to fuel his songs and poetry, and he thought that their relationship was right up there with the classics.

John Winchester looked over at The Great Fellini and thought, for the thousandth time since he’d met him, what an arrogant poser. Who names themselves the great anything anyway? Unfortunately he was stuck alone with the obnoxious jerk while they waited for Devora to arrive. John scratched at the skin under his beard and wondered what the hell was taking her so long. He wanted nothing more than to disappear back into the wilderness from where he pulled the strings of the Hunter Federation and put this emergency triumvirate business behind him.  
“Finally!” John almost bellowed as Devora, cloaked, but unmasked entered the small room in the center of the old museum that they used for their meetings. “You’re not traveling alone are you?”  
“Gods forbid, John! I left the Js at the entrance since neither of them is ready to hear state secrets yet. How have you both been?” The techno-mage sat in the remaining chair and took the goblet of water offered by Fellini (she refused to call him ‘The Great’ even in her mind).  
“Trying times, Devora,” the bard almost sang out in a low monotone voice. He was well known for his theatrics. “Branches are starting to grow where none should take root.”  
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” John swore. “Speak English or at least something that resembles it or we’ll be here for a week trying to decipher what you’re saying.”  
“Easy John, he can’t help his nature any more than you or I can,” Devora sipped at her water. She was the referee at these meetings and considered herself the leader of the triumvirate. “What’s the emergency Fellini? Why are we meeting? You know the dangers we all face if our alliance were to become known.”  
The Great Fellini stood and cleared his throat. John shook his head and Devora suppressed a sigh. “I have news of the greatest importance to our organization. A bard at our most recent convocation overheard a most distressing conversation and had the good sense to report it to his mentor, who then passed it on to me. I sent birds to you as soon as I heard.” The bard sipped at his water before continuing, “The disgraced cyborg techno-mage and his hunter companion live.” The Great Fellini, a performer for many years paused to allow his audience to react to his words. “They were spotted together by one of yours, Devora. He told a tale of being attacked on the road by some of yours, John and being rescued by a techno-mage with a cybernetic arm and a hunter who were traveling together.”  
“Where? Where were they spotted and how did you come to know this, when I’ve heard nothing of it?” Devora was incensed that one of the traveling brothers would have had the balls to keep an encounter like this to himself, “Are you sure this isn’t just a story made up by one of your younger bards to enhance his or her reputation by causing a sensation among the populace? You know that news of any kind of alliance would cause some of the more reluctant Alliance protectorates to secede and declare independence.”  
“Enough, Devora,” John snapped at the mage as he turned to the bard. “She does have a point; it isn’t like you haven’t encouraged that kind of imagination amongst your rank and file in the past. Plus, don’t you think I’d know if my son still lived? The remains that were found near that priory cabin had been looted for weapons and valuables, but the hunters that found them were certain Dean was one of the dead. Once he was killed I’m sure the remaining hunters had their way with the cyborg and left it somewhere secluded to rot, as they were instructed. My hunters know better than to disobey a direct order. They are fully aware of the consequences of that kind of insubordination. Hell, I didn’t even spare my son and they know it.”  
“The story was first told in Lincoln by the mage who claimed the encounter. Michael, the bard who heard his story left town the next day and found the remains of several hunters who had been slaughtered off of a side road. Their weapons had been taken but they wore the traditional leathers and tattoos of long time hunter-kind,” Fellini sat down, his tale completed.  
“You of all people should know perfectly well that it could have been demons that killed those hunters. It isn’t like we set up fucking demonstrations of demon might for nothing. The rotted corpses are meant to be seen and commented on. They are what keep us in business and you both fucking know it,” John reached into his pack and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and filled his goblet. His silent offer to the others was declined.  
Fellini looked down his nose at the common man who sat in this place of power and concealed his disgust, “Demons don’t hunt with swords. Michael said that at least one of the dead hunters had been beheaded by sword. The mage who carried the story to town said he witnessed the giant cyborg take out at least three of his attackers with his staff while the hunter he traveled with killed the others. If this is Dean, John, then he is now responsible for the deaths of at least six of his hunter compatriots and should be charged with and executed for treason according to your by-laws.”  
Devora cleared her throat gently to pull the attention back to her. “Brother Samuel, the techno-mage, died of his wounds and lung fever at the Priory of Many Waters after Dean Winchester escaped by killing his guards. There is no reason at all for my people to lie about this. Many of the brothers and sisters saw the man’s grievous wounds and have testified before the Master Magi of the priory regarding his condition and subsequent death. His body was cremated immediately to keep the contagion from spreading through the priory. This is fact as recorded by the Fulcrum. Your son was seen after the ambush at Carolltown, John. Is it not possible he still lives? Could this have been part of your plan all along?”  
“Dammit, Devora! You and the bardic clowns depend way too much on the written word! Words are corruptible. The only true tale is that of a primary witness and I have several that have made blood vows on their blades that my son was among the dead. Dean is dead and gone. My sacrifice to this fucking council has been made. I think losing both my sons to this cause speaks to my dedication to keeping the status quo.”  
“No one is questioning your commitment, John,” the bard now reached for the whiskey and filled his glass. “It is you who are questioning the veracity of my bard and Devora’s magi however I believe I have a way to settle this conflict. We all send birds to our seconds, you both have access to ravens, yes?” The hunter and the mage both nodded their assent. “Good, send birds with the news that the Winchester boy and the cyborg could have survived their attack and have your seconds send scouts to all the cities and towns within several weeks travel in all directions. If they live, they will have been seen and once we know where, we can narrow the search and take them out, this time for good. Questions?”  
“That will take too much damn time,” Winchester growled out, “unfortunately I don’t see a better way to search. I will tell the fucking demon master to restrain his hoard for the time being and have all available hunters search for my son and his…..thing.”  
Devora snorted in disgust at John’s words, “you of all people John Winchester know that the cyborg are as human as any of us. Wasn’t it you who begged me to save the life of your youngest son, to make sure he grew up as whole as possible? It is interesting to me that you haven’t once asked what priory Brother Samuel was associated with….”  
John, who had been staring into his goblet, looked up with a jerk of his head and his blood ran cold, “What are implying, you fucking bitch?”  
“I can understand Samuel is a common enough name in these parts. I think it would interest you to know that this brother, this cyborg, has a cybernetic left arm. His had to be amputated when he was six months old to save his life. He’d been badly burned. But cyborg are just things to you, machines without histories, am I right?”  
The hunter blanched, his skin losing all color as the words of his equal ran through his head. The bard was fascinated by the drama playing out before him and had to restrain himself from reaching for a parchment, pen and ink to take notes. This would prove to be an epic tale and The Great Fellini had every intention of writing it and singing it across their broken land.  
“It….the cyborg…..my Sam? No! I don’t believe it. He died of his wounds and even if he hadn’t, I never gave permission to turn him into a……thing,” John stood and gathered his things he wasn’t going to listen to any more lies from the other two. He’d send his hunters out, but he knew his sons were dead. There was no possibility either one had survived.  
Devora dropped a slim band of gold containing a very small diamond on the table and the sound of it hitting the wooden surface made John stop in his tracks and turn around. “Sam Winchester lived. You gave me this as payment for taking him in and instructed that it along with a man’s ring and an ivory comb be buried with him if he didn’t survive. The ring was mine to keep if he lived. I’ve worn it ever since.”  
John stared in horror the ring he’d given his wife Mary at their wedding ceremony; the ring he’d used to seal his vows to her and felt his knees weaken. “No, no. You’re lying. I was told that in the end there was nothing that could be done to help him. That the infection was too advanced and that he died and was buried at Scion.”  
“We felt it best at the time, John. You were in no condition to care for another small child and certainly not one that would require the care and prosthetics that Sam did. He grew up happy and cared for.” Devora was losing patience with the ignorant hunter she was forced to rule with. “He had everything you couldn’t provide.”  
“You…..you….you turned him into a monster! You destroyed my boy without my permission and I’ll see that you pay,” John was still sputtering as the twins, summoned telepathically by their leader dragged him away from the meeting room.  
“Don’t hurt him boys, just make sure he leaves – one of you follow him,” Devora called out as they left. “He took that about as well as we expected.”  
The master bard laughed, “You really are a bitch, you know. You didn’t have to tell him that Sam lived. The whole purpose of the meeting was to get him searching for and arresting Dean before he and his partner could cause any damage to the status quo.”  
“True, but I’ve always hated him and felt that the Hunters should have chosen better representation.”  
“Ah, you mean someone who would recognize you as the true power of the Alliance, of course, I should have guessed sooner,” Fellini held out his goblet and allowed Devora to pour him another whiskey, one for the road. “Let’s drink to broken alliances.”  
The mage raised her cup and mimed drinking. She hadn’t filled her own cup at all and watched with a subtle smirk as the bard drank the whiskey in his cup. There was more than enough cyanide to take him out even if he’d only sipped the drink and Devora didn’t have to wait long for the signs of poisoning to become evident. She called out to the remaining guards and then slumped down on the table as if she were a victim as well.  
Once she ‘came to’ she explained that she had no taste for the whiskey after her first sip and had disposed of her first cup and never poured herself a second. She claimed to the bard’s guards that John Winchester had planned and executed the poisoning in order to have complete control of the Alliance. When her guards returned from making sure John left the city she gathered up her things and said a tearful good-bye to her old friend Fellini before mounting her horse and riding away.  
Devora hoped she wouldn’t have to wait too long to reap the fruits of her labors here and as she rode she tried on various titles trying to figure out which one most suited her. As soon as the bards and hunters began to wage war against each other, she would step forward and offer to broker a peace treaty between the two sides, effectively setting her up as the sole power in this broken land. It was a good day to be techno-mage she thought as they rode away.

Sam sighed as he closed his book and looked up at the clock that Jason had managed to get running. The young Techno-mage was gifted with mechanical items and was able to make a good guess at what a machine had been intended to do just by studying its mechanism. He was also good at fixing them. It was just about midnight and Sam knew that he needed to get himself to bed even if going to sleep without Dean was almost impossible. The bed they shared was small to begin with, especially for two large men, but it felt huge, empty and cold without his partner. He just couldn’t relax without the sound of Dean’s heartbeat, his breathing and even his gods-awful snoring. Sleeping wasn’t the same without him near. Still, their days started early and he had double the classes to teach while Dean was away.  
He reluctantly got up and stretched before picking up the glass he’d been using intending to return it to the kitchen when he heard the sound of his students filing into the small den. Sam turned and found all six lined up and avoiding eye contact, “What’s going on? Mass outbreak of insomnia?” He raised an eyebrow as he waited for a reply.  
After a little more shuffling and some elbowing, Jenna spoke up, “We’ve been talking…..I mean, well, we……well, some of us….”  
“Spit it out Jenna. You know we don’t discourage questions here,” Sam sat back down in his chair, wishing he had another finger or two of whiskey.  
Jenna pushed her hair off her face and started again, “Well, Sam, it’s just that……you know we’re from all over, none of us knew each other before coming here, right?”  
“Yeah, I knew that. It was kind of a part of the plan,” the mage was now even more interested in what his students were up to and leaned forward resting his arms on his knees.  
“Yeah, well, anyway……the thing is…..well, we’ve been talking and well most of us have never…..well, never thought we’d meet someone like you,” Jenna’s words began to tumble out almost as one long word. “And, well, while talking about, you know, you. We realized we’d all heard the same stories about, you know….”  
“Cyborg?” Sam provided, ready to put the girl out of her misery. “You’ve never met a cyborg and have all heard the same stories about them…us….me, have I got that right?” Sam was gentle, he didn’t mind questions and was more than happy to discuss his arm and the process involved in its integration with his biology.  
“Yes, yes! Exactly that,” Jenna was relieved that their teacher, mentor wasn’t upset by her question. They’d drawn straws before coming in to speak to him and she’d lost and drawn the short one. “Can we…..would you answer some questions? Please?” The rest of the students took a step further into the room.  
Sam laughed, “Of course. I can’t believe you guys are scared to ask me anything. Haven’t we made it clear that you are here to learn and we can’t help you if we don’t know what you need and want to know?” The mage gestured to his students to come in and sit down. He waited until everyone had settled down and Michael had poured him another measure of whiskey. “Thanks Michael. Now what’s up, what do you need to know at midnight?”  
“Here’s the thing,” Aaron, one of the hunters took up the narrative, “none of us, not even the mages have ever gotten to know a cyborg as well as we’ve gotten to know you.”  
“And, we’ve all heard the same tales. The same scary tales that parents tell their kids to keep them in line,” Elisa added. Everyone now comfortable talking since Sam didn’t take Jenna’s head off. “You know, go to sleep or the mages will take you and make you cyborg.”  
“Or the stories of how a single cyborg took out a whole town, just for fun,” Michael added, somewhat ashamed of ever having believed this. “Not that we think that about you at all.”  
Jenna motioned for the rest to be quiet, “What we were hoping is that you could help us figure out which things that we’ve been told are true and which are fable or tall tales. I mean, we think we know, and we’re not scared of you at all.” Everyone in the room nodded their agreement. “But we thought now that we’re all working together that we might meet more cyborg and it would be helpful for us to know the truth of them, of you….all of you.”  
The room fell silent and the ticking of the clock sounded loud and intrusive as the students waited for Sam to react, waited for an answer to their question. They’d been planning this conversation since Dean and Gabe had left on their recruiting trip. None of the students had thought that Dean would have let them ask Sam about his arm. They knew the hunter was fiercely protective of his mate even if Sam could take him almost every time they sparred. None of the students wanted to ever get on their master hunter’s bad side. Gods knew bothering Sam was a sure way to land on that list and Dean didn’t go easy on people he felt disrespected his partner.  
“It’s okay,” Sam spoke and the students let out a collective breath, “I don’t mind the questions. I’d rather people ask than make things up or believe the rumors and outright lies. What do you want to know?”  
“It’s not true that the magi take children and purposefully turn them cyborg, is it?” Jenna’s voice was soft. This was something she’d been told since she was old enough to remember stories. She didn’t think it was true, but she wanted reassurance that she was right. “I mean I don’t think that, but people do.”  
“No, Jenna, it’s not true at all,” Sam was horrified that a parent would tell their children this kind of story, but knew from experience it was more common than not. “Before the surgeons and scientists even begin the testing necessary to see if they can successfully integrate the cybernetics to your body you are given all the facts. They walk you through every test every procedure and every step that you will go through for the first two years after your initial surgery to make sure you are committed to going through with the entire process. Once it’s begun there’s no stopping. You have to be one hundred percent sure it is what you want. No cyborg is created without having permission granted. That’s why you have to wait until you become an adult. They won’t even allow parents to make that kind of decision for a child.”  
Jason shifted in his seat he’d studied at a priory but had not yet made the decision to make his final vows, “I only met one cyborg at my priory. She worked in the kitchens and had badly burned one of her hands. The wounds would have healed, but she would have lost almost all use of her hand due to scarring and the healing process. She decided to go ahead and have her hand replaced because she couldn’t imagine not being able to contribute to the good of the priory. She’d been raised there from childhood and knew no other home or life. She was happy with her decision, like you are Sam.”  
“I too was raised in my priory. I lost my arm when I was six months old, also to a burn and subsequent infection. I think it was an easier decision for me than for some because I grew up with only one functional arm. I really didn’t have to think about it much at all. I knew it was the right thing,” Sam rubbed absently at his left arm as he spoke remembering how he’d felt before he had his permanent replacement. The brothers and sisters who raised him did a good job of not singling him out for special treatment because of his disability and he was encouraged to do everything the others did even if he had to do so differently. The priory system represented acceptance to him.  
Jenna spoke up again, “You weren’t worried that the….your….you know the process would make you insane?”  
Sam sighed, it was another long held prejudice against the cyborg that they were all on the road to insanity and couldn’t be trusted. “No, Jenna. I was warned that in the past, when the technology was new and still being worked on that there were some people who couldn’t handle the process of integration and did become despondent. Not insane, depressed and unable to function. Over the last century the techno-magi responsible for developing the cybernetic program have been able to refine the procedure and have rediscovered medications that can help stabilize moods to help those who have trouble adjusting to their new status and their new limbs.  
“But Sam, what about the stories of a cyborg destroying towns, entire towns, until a hunter arrives to put….it…..I mean him or her down? We’re taught by our mentors that this is one of the reasons the Hunter Federation was established. To keep the techno-magi and the cyborg in particular in check,” Elisa was a bladed hunter, but new to the Federation and still full of the lore her mentor had instilled in her.  
“I promise you all that I’ve never heard of that happening, I was never even warned that it could happen. I honestly believe it is one of the many untruths that our leaders have been purposefully spreading to keep the orders separate and the citizens frightened of their own shadows. Anything else?”  
“Did it hurt?” This came from the other hunter Aaron.  
“It did. It hurt a lot but the nurses were able to give me medicine to relieve the pain. The itching was the worst though. The nanytes crawling around under your skin connecting nerves, blood vessels and tissue feel just like bugs crawling under your skin. If, some cyborg went crazy during the process I can guarantee you it was from the itching. I used to recite pages of books to myself or lists of chemicals, formulas, demons, anything really to keep my mind off of the feeling. They’d give me pretty strong narcotics to get me to sleep,” Sam scratched absently at his arm as he spoke, remembering the constant feeling of bugs under his skin. “Yeah, that was definitely the worst part of the process.”  
“How long until it stopped?”  
“Hmmmmm, I guess a couple of months. I honestly don’t remember a lot of those first few months. They kept me pretty sedated so that the nanytes could do their job. I was able to start learning to use my arm after six months. The time went faster after that. It takes two years before you are considered completely integrated with your cybernetics.”  
“Are you ever sorry you decided to have the surgery?” This was from Nathan who had taken his vows to his priory before deciding to attend the prototype academy. “At my priory any cyborg were usually the ones who traveled between priories and took items to market for trade. There weren’t any who lived at the priory full time. It almost seemed like our Master Magi didn’t want any of us to interact with them.”  
“I can’t say that was the case at Scion where I’m from, but as you know, I was raised there and everyone already knew me quite well so nothing really changed after my procedure except that I had two arms like everyone else. That said it wouldn’t surprise me that some priories isolate their cyborg members. More and more it occurs to me that our leadership is using the isolation to cause mistrust,” Sam stood and went to the whiteboard and drew a quick diagram of the leadership as he understood it. “If no one from the three silos interacts, how can those at the top be able to make decisions that work for everyone, that help everyone. When I look at these silos I can see where the misinformation and mistrust sown by our individual leaders discourages any kind of collaboration by anyone really. This is one of the things that Dean, Gabe and I wanted to address with this academy. We want to bridge the gaps and help you guys trust each other and work together instead of everyone pursuing their own agenda. What’s wrong Michael?”  
“I understand what you’re saying and it makes sense, but how are we going to help everyone understand these things. You know the people in the towns? They only have the word of our leaders to follow.”  
“Eventually we’ll have greater numbers of people working together on this project and the ideas will filter down, nothing’s going to change overnight. This is a long term project and you guys are the keystones. We’re depending on all of you. It’s late and I’ve got a pretty heavy training day sketched out for y’all. Get on to bed and get some rest. You can come to me with your questions anytime.”  
Sam took his glass to the kitchen and rinsed it out before heading down the hall to his cold and lonely room. For the first time since they’d brought the students to the library he wondered how well they could, well he could, trust them. The prejudice against cyborg ran deep and while Sam didn’t think any of the students would harm him, he wished Dean were there to watch his back. He hated feeling like this in his own home but unfortunately was used to being outcast.  
As he curled on his side, wishing again that he was curled against his love, Sam sent a prayer up to Jobs Gates asking him to watch over Dean and bring him home soon. He no longer knew how to be himself without his other half and was lonelier than he’d ever been.

Dean watched his love sleeping, his eyes tracing the contours of his face, the fine cheekbones, straight nose and dark lashes highlighted against his golden skin before moving down the rest of his naked body. He didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of looking at the man who’d changed his life so dramatically. The mage was put together in a way that combined his overt strength with his finely sculpted wrists, hands, ankles and feet. Yeah, Dean thought, even his fucking feet turn me on!  
And then there was his cybernetic arm, so realistic and yet so powerful. Dean loved touching it, stroking it like one would a pet, knowing his mate could feel his touch even more acutely through the miracle of the integration. It was hard to remember that he’d initially feared and had recoiled from the cyborg when he now couldn’t imagine life without him.  
Leaning forward, Dean licked up Sam’s miraculous arm from the tips of his fingers to his shoulder, applying more pressure as he reached his shoulder and then beginning to alternate kitten licks with gentle bites while working his way up the long neck, through his hair, to the shell of his ear. Sam moaned softly and shook his head as if chasing away an irritation which resulted in Dean nibbling at his ear and blowing softly against his damp skin.  
“Time to wake up, baby boy,” Dean whispered, “Need you.” He licked into Sam’s ear, kissing it as he would his mouth, taking his time as he felt the mage begin to stir. He didn’t let up even as Sam’s eyes began to flutter open and he began breathing a little faster.  
“What......”  
“Shhhhhh,” Dean moved to capture his mate’s mouth, licking and nipping at his lips until he let him in. The hunter pushed his partner onto his side and pressed his body against him while he fucked his tongue into his mouth, each penetration deeper than the last. As he took his time exploring the depths of Sam’s mouth, his hands swept down his back to grab at his ass and pull him even closer. “Missed you.”  
Sam pulled out of the kiss, laughter bubbling up, “I’ve been here all night.”  
“Sleeping, you’ve been sleeping. I’ve been missing you,” as proof Dean thrust his hips forward so Sam couldn’t miss the fact that his cock was hard and leaking with need. “I need you Sammy, if I’m gonna make it through the day.”  
“Awwweeee, Dean, you pout so pretty,” the mage pushed his partner onto his back and took possession of his mouth, kissing him as deeply as he could while his left hand pinched his nipples into hard buds that were just begging to be bitten. His own cock was now as hard as granite. It didn’t seem to matter how many times a day they made love, or sometimes just fucked each other quickly in a corner, his cock came alive at the slightest touch, kiss or sometimes look from his partner. He’d never known he could possibly want someone as much as he did Dean.  
The hunter thrust up blindly hoping his cock would rub against any part of his mate, the sounds of frustration he was making just ensured Sam would take his time as his kissed, licked and bit his way down the hunter’s lean and well-muscled body. He knew every inch of it by taste and touch, and could easily trace it blindfolded if necessary. Sam knew exactly where to stop and bite a little harder bringing out the neediest cries from his love’s mouth. His teeth were currently tugging at the fine hairs leading down to Dean’s own cock. He ran his hand up and down the hard and slippery shaft, twisting his wrist slightly as he pulled his hand over the crown collecting the pre-come gathered there and using it to lube his down strokes.  
“Gods, baby boy, you’re killing me here,” Dean was only slightly ashamed at the need in his voice.  
“Still waking up here,” was the muffled response from the mage who had moved to lick at the skin on the inside of Dean’s thighs, nipping lightly a few times before continuing to lick. He rubbed his stubbly cheek against his partner’s balls and was rewarded by a gasp and another spurt of slick sliding down Dean’s now almost purple cock.  
Dean was tired of Sam dicking around and wanted to get off…..now. He wrapped his own hand around his almost painful cock and was just starting to build a steady rhythm when Sam removed his hand and replaced it with his own, jerking him a few times while licking the slick from his slit.  
“Please, please, Sammy…..need you,” Dean was full out begging now. He felt like he’d die if he didn’t come soon. Every nerve in his body was on fire and he could barely think beyond reaching his release.  
Sam smiled, his dimples flashing as he lowered his mouth and pulled his love’s cock into the warm, wet depths while working his tongue along the shaft. He continued to work the lower third of Dean’s cock with his left hand, his right hand teasing at the other man’s hard and sensitive nipples. The mage loved the sounds he could pull from his mate and worked his cock in and out of his mouth, increasing the suction each time until Dean stopped being able to make any noise at all.  
“Gods, Sam, yes, fuck…..” the words barely understandable and panted out as Dean felt his orgasm start to build, all sensation rushing to the base of his spine. It was like his blood was on fire and the only way to quell it was to come and yet, he held back as long as he could. He loved the feeling of Sam’s mouth on him and didn’t want it to end too quickly.  
Dean tasted a little like sweat, mixed with leather and salt, it was an intoxicating combination to Sam and it suited his mate perfectly. He could tell Dean was close to orgasm, his breathing had changed and he was thrusting himself into his mouth, fucking him as gently as he could. The mage relaxed his throat and drew his partner’s cock all the way into his throat.  
On his last thrust Dean felt himself slip into Sam’s throat and everything just gelled. He was in a perfect place, at the perfect time, with the perfect man and in the brief seconds he had before he pulled back slightly in order to come, he sent up a silent thank you to that god he’d decided might actually be listening after all. Then his mind went blank as the force that had gathered at the base of his spine exploded through his body causing him to cry out as he filled Sam’s mouth with his release.  
The hunter awoke as his orgasm hit and he shot come into his own hand and onto his belly and chest. Embarrassed he looked over to the other bed, but the bard was already up and out. Even with the late hours he kept, the guy was up with the sun and out on the streets of Mt. Laurel talking to whomever would stop long enough to listen to him.  
He’d woken up the same way almost every one of the fourteen days he’d been away from Sam and it hadn’t gotten any easier to find that he wasn’t home yet. He wiped himself off with a small cloth next to the basin, wondering when they might get fresh water. Once he was dressed he headed down to the inn’s main room to see if Gabe was still hanging around.  
Dean saw a couple of hunters he didn’t know well and a few of the local townspeople but no bard. He sat at the bar and asked for breakfast and cider. He scratched absently at his beard. He couldn’t wait to get rid of it. He didn’t mind a few days growth, but a full beard just wasn’t comfortable when traveling dry and very dusty roads. He’d gotten used to the abundant water at the library and just couldn’t believe he’d lived without it before. Breakfast, when it arrived, was an egg, and porridge. The cereal had no raisins or cinnamon and wasn’t nearly as good as Sam’s. The hard-boiled egg was small, but fine. He was just finishing as the other hunters got up to leave. One of them bumped Dean, hard, from behind.  
“I’m so sorry. Please pardon me,” the older hunter apologized.  
“Sure, no harm done,” Dean didn’t give another thought to the men as they left.  
The party of three hunters stopped at the next intersection. “So, is it him?” said the oldest man.  
“Yeah, Harry, it’s him. That was his voice for sure,” one of the younger hunters confirmed.  
“Sheeee-it! You’d think that boy would know better,” Harry looked around to make sure Dean hadn’t followed them. “I knowed his father and uncle, they’da teached him better ‘an that.”  
“Give him some credit we didn’t recognize him right away. We hada come back today ta see if it was him.”  
The third hunter spoke, “So what’re we gonna do?”  
Harry looked around again, “hell boys, there’s a reward for telling the bosses where he’s at, we’re gonna tell and gets us some cash!”  
“Let’s get to it then. No tellin’ how long he’ll stay put.” The three men hurried down the street in the direction of the local guild house. It was one of the bigger ones and they had every expectation of being able to get paid and out of town before their leadership caught up with the traitor, Dean Winchester.

“Listen, Crowley you fucking son of a bitch, the agreement was always you send the demons when and where we tell you!” John Winchester was in the crossroads demon’s face and backing him up against a wall, one of his blades at his throat. “I know you motherfuckers lie for a living and this lie’s gonna cost you your fucking pathetic afterlife if you don’t put a hold on the demon activity until I say otherwise.” John drew his blade, Demonbane, lightly against the demon’s throat, chuckling as the blade seared into the demon’s hide.  
“The agreement,” Crowley pulled several pieces of parchment from his inside pocket, “specifically states that the demon activity would occur regularly, with occasional ebbs and flows. Not that it would halt all together. I consider that a breach of contract and I will collect my collateral now.” The demon master dabbed at the burn on his throat. “You may be able to kill me quicker with your spelled blade but I’d be back and I’d be angry. I don’t think even think a pathetic drunk like you could misinterpret that threat as anything other than a promise.”  
John downed the whiskey in his glass and walked back to where the demon master stood, looking down his nose at him even though he was many inches taller, “Look you shit, just ease up in this area, I don’t give a fuck what you do in the rest of territories. I need my hunters focused on one job only and you’re gonna give me what I want or I will pin you down with my devil’s trapped blade and give you a death of a thousand cuts.”  
Crowley blanched slightly at Winchester’s words. In the past if Crowley pressed him, the fucker would back down this time though he didn’t seem to give a flying rat’s ass and that attitude scared Crowley more than anything else in his thousand-some years in hell had ever done. The man’s voice was flat and his eyes burned cold. As much as the demon liked fucking with humans and their all too easy to manipulate emotions he decided he was better off just backing down this time, “Fine, whatever you say boss. How long do I need to keep my minions away from this area?”  
The leader of the hunters leaned back against a wall and studied the prissy demon trying to decide why he’d given in so easily. The one thing he’d learned from dealing with Crowley and his minions was that nothing was ever clear cut when it came to the denizens of hell. He didn’t think for a minute that he’d actually scared the fucker, if anything he figured the piece of shit would bring this up the next time they had to negotiate to try to use it to his advantage.  
He realized as he stood and watched his Mary burning on the ceiling of Sam’s nursery that when a demon made an agreement with you, it was always to the demon’s advantage. He’d learned the hard way to be very specific with his words and even then the fuckers could find a way to turn your words to their favor.  
Mary had been so sick after Sammy was born, milk fever, according to the midwife who’d attended her. The infection was just wasting her away to nothing and Sammy wasn’t tolerating the goat’s milk they were feeding him. All he’d wanted was his family to survive. When the traveling minister promised that his god would heal Mary and save both lives, he’d jumped at the chance. He hadn’t thought twice and hadn’t thought to spell out how long the healing would last. All the yellow eyed bastard had asked for was a free pass to their house one night in the future. John figured that was a small price to pay to keep his wife and second son from dying and agreed without a second thought.  
The night the demon returned to claim his payment; Mary woke and found him in Sam’s nursery. Yellow Eyes couldn’t allow her to live and sliced her open and set her ablaze. John barely got Sam and Dean out of the burning house and even then, little Sammy had been badly burned by the blaze. He begged the techno-mage at the next the market day, Devora, to take his son to her priory and save his life if possible and bury him decently if he died. He’d assumed the personal items he’d sent with Sam would become payment for his burial. Never once did he think his infant son would survive his wounds.  
“Get out of my sight you motherfucking lying son of a bitch!”  
“Always with the tearful good byes,” the demon master remarked as he blinked out of sight.  
“Just keep the demon activity away from this region,” Winchester shouted at the empty space before he sat and poured himself another drink.  
He stared into the amber liquid and wondered how he’d gone from saving his boys to making sure they never drew another breath. John knew there’d be a special place in hell for him, but didn’t see any other option. It….Sam, couldn’t be allowed to corrupt Dean any further, he was already branded traitor. Homosexual, cybersexual, incestuous traitor was just something John refused to reconcile. Dean would have to be made an example to the populace of the kind of corruption spread by the cyborg.

Thomas, the Fulcrum of the Priory of Many Waters shook as he approached the chamber where he usually held court over the brothers and sisters of the priory along with his Adam and Eve. He wasn’t at all used to being the one brought before the bench for questioning and yet here he was presenting himself for questioning before Devora, the Apex, of the entire order of Techno-magi across the territories. He’d never met her prior to this and the stories that circulated about her made him think that her presence at his priory was anything but benign.  
The twins that Devora traveled with opened the doors as he approached. It was rumored that the two of them rarely spoke to anyone and some had speculated that they had been muted in order to prevent them from gossiping about the Apex’s business, but the Fulcrum didn’t believe that for a minute. Their order might not be completely without cruelty, but that just seemed a bit extreme. He approached the bench with trepidation, unsurprised that Devora was seated there alone, without Adam and Eve to balance her sentence. He hadn’t thought that this hearing would include anyone other than the two of them.  
Once he reached the center of the room he stopped and bowed his head as he waited to be recognized by the bench regretting with all his heart the day they’d opened their doors to the sick and injured cyborg and the hunter who’d brought him to their gates. The two of them had brought more trouble to his serene priory than he’d thought was even possible.  
Devora sat back in the fulcrum’s seat and watched the man in front of her wondering, not for the first time that day, at the level of arrogance necessary for a Techno-mage, a Fulcrum no less, to lie to her face. It had been clear from the get go that she wasn’t going to be satisfied by his word alone and the sheer audacity of the man still astonished her. At least he had the good sense to appear uncomfortable at having been called before the bench.  
“Thomas, Fulcrum of the Priory of Many Waters, do you know why you’ve been called before the bench today?”  
“Yes, Apex, I am aware of my transgression,” the Fulcrum spoke softly, which was much different than the booming voice he usually used in this chamber.  
The Apex took her time before speaking again, she felt that long periods of silence between her words made them that much stronger and she rarely felt the need to fill the air with extra words. “Very well, then that being the case, will you tell me what you thought to gain by concealing the fact that your hunter prisoner escaped your custody? Is it true that he was aided by Brother Samuel from the Priory of Scion?”  
Thomas swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, before answering, “We don’t have any concrete evidence that the hunter was assisted by Brother Samuel.”  
“It is true, though, that he left the priory under cover of night at the same time the hunter made his escape, correct?”  
“Yes Apex, the young cyborg was discovered missing the same morning the prisoner was found to be missing.”  
“Must I remind you that your own report states that you found the prisoner’s cell door locked and that there was no evidence of tampering to be seen,” Devora was already starting to lose her patience with the Fulcrum’s prevarication. “How then did you come to the conclusion that the hunter escaped without inside assistance?”  
“I only meant that no one saw or heard anything that would directly implicate Brother Samuel in the escape. Adam, Eve and myself discussed the possibility but didn’t feel that we could convict a brother of such an egregious act of insubordination without concrete evidence of the same,” Thomas was starting to sweat. He felt like the Apex’s eyes were boring new holes in his skull and he wanted nothing more than for this audience to be over. “We reported the escape of the hunter as soon as he was found missing. Ravens were dispatched to the other priories and we sent a brother to town to report the same to the head of the local guildhall.”  
“Yes, yes, I am aware of that fact. This incident does reek of sloppy procedure by the brothers you have on guard duty all the same and be assured that we will review the procedures your guards have been following,” Devora again fell silent and maintained a steady gaze on the man standing before her. She was sure that once he’d been raised to the office of Fulcrum he stopped trying to better himself and by extension, his priory. She had no use for men or women like that in her organization. “What I am more concerned with is the fact that rather than report the disappearance of Brother Samuel and giving the other priories a chance to alert their traveling magi to keep an eye open for a rogue cyborg, you decided it was better to conceal the fact by reporting him deceased. I am struggling to understand how you and your balances made the decision to lie to your brethren and your leadership. Can you walk me through your thought process?”  
The older man swallowed again wishing he had some water to relieve his dry mouth. He then cleared his throat before speaking. “You had to have seen the condition Brother Samuel was in when he was brought to us. He’d been beaten so severely that there was barely any unbruised flesh on his body. In addition he had several cracked and broken ribs as well as lung fever. I, we, didn’t expect that he’d get very far on his own and considered him a dead man walking.”  
“That’s why you didn’t send out a search party? He was dead to you once he left the priory walls?” Devora’s voice was harsh and her tone astringent.  
“We sent a search party after the hunter, we didn’t feel a sick mage was any threat to our priory while an escaped hunter could bring about our destruction,” the timbre of Thomas’ voice had increased, he felt like he was on solid ground with this reasoning. “Even if the young cyborg had made it to a priory hut before nightfall there was no way he’d be able to fight off any kind of threat. We honestly felt that he was as good as dead.”  
The Apex sighed, exasperated, “so you felt it necessary to hold a funeral right here. If you were so secure in your judgment why the need to deceive the brethren who share your roof, wouldn’t they have understood your reasoning?”  
“Well….it…..it just seemed more expedient to say he died in the night and bury him with full honors. We, Adam, Eve and I, felt that this small omission would help keep order. Things were already in turmoil with the missing prisoner. Additionally we didn’t want people to assume the cyborg assisted the hunter in any way since we had no evidence of the same. It didn’t seem fair to the cyborg to cast aspersions we couldn’t back up.”  
“So let me get this straight, you let a hunter, a known traitor no less, escape. A severely injured and sick cyborg disappears the same night, but rather than address the fact that he went missing AT THE SAME time as the traitor, you decide to hold a sham of a funeral and report him as dead. You and your balances decided that protecting the reputation of one brother was more important than being truthful to your priory and to your leadership. Do I have the gist of it?” The Apex could feel the beginnings of a headache and she was anxious to finish this meeting so that she could take a headache powder and rest. “Is there anything else you’d like to add before I render my verdict?”  
Thomas started at her words. Ordinarily there would be a period of reflection after testimony was heard in order to process the information that had been presented. It was extremely rare, although not unheard of, for a verdict to be arrived at immediately after a hearing. “No Apex, those are the facts of the matter at hand.” The Fulcrum knew he was screwed. Devora’s eyes were like granite without an ounce of compassion. He hoped he could spare his balances from judgment, “I would like to ask a boon of you before you pronounce sentence, if possible.”  
“I’ll hear your request.”  
“I….it would…..I would consider it a personal favor if you were lenient with my balances. I will take responsibility for everything that’s happened in the past 10 months and will not question your sentence if you would let them continue in their offices.” That was the best he could do and he wasn’t sure Devora would be amenable to his request.  
Devora expected this of the Fulcrum. She would have never handled the situation in the same manner, but she would fight for her balances if she saw that she was on the losing side of an argument. At least he was acting like a Fulcrum in this instance, she thought. “I will take your request under consideration, but I still need to speak with Adam and Eve, but be comforted that I am inclined to consider you fully responsible for this folly.”  
“Thank you, Apex. You will have my unwavering support going forward regardless of my sentence,” Thomas bowed his head and waited for Devora to speak again.  
Again Devora used silence to heighten the tension in the room. She’d made her decision before she’d even stepped foot in the audience chamber. Once the Fulcrum had admitted to the deception regarding the cyborg’s death she knew he couldn’t continue to hold office, but things had to be done according to the rule. “Brother Thomas, for decision to deceive your brethren here at the Priory of Many Waters as well as myself as your direct supervisor, I sentence you to a year and a day of traveling between priories as a penitent. You will not be carrying messages, supplies or attending market days. You will travel to every priory in this territory during your year and tell the tale of your disgrace. You may stay for two or three days at a given priory before moving on. You will be given supplies, but you will travel on foot. The cabins will be available to you as long as they are not occupied by another techno-mage. Once your sentence is up we will meet again to discuss how your year went and if I am satisfied with your penance I will reassign you to a priory. Do you have any questions about your sentence and penance?”  
Brother Thomas, no longer Fulcrum, felt the weight of his 62 years weighing on his thin frame. He’d be surprised if he made it through his year of penance. It had been a long time since he’d been on the road and had to fend off demons and/or hunters. “No, Apex, I understand my sentence and will follow the terms of such to the letter.”  
“Very well Thomas, you are dismissed. Be ready to leave in two days. In the meantime I will appoint a replacement for you and speak with your balances. Jobs Gates be with you Thomas. It is my sincere hope that by the end of your sentence you will come to understand the how deception at your level is detrimental to the welfare of the entire priory system. Good day.”  
The doors opened as he approached and his face flushed with embarrassment at the thought of the twins overhearing everything that had occurred. He quickly dismissed that thought certain that Devora would probably fill them in anyway. At least since he was relieved of duty he could hide out in his room until it was time to leave. He didn’t think he could handle the sympathy or in select cases the rejoicing of his brethren. Once again he cursed the day the cyborg and his hunter guardian had shown up at the gates of his priory.

Sam noticed the sky beginning to lighten as he worked through his forms with the twin blades that he was learning to fight with. Many of the forms were similar to those he’d mastered with the quarterstaff, but the rapidly spinning blades made mastering the differences that much more important. A blade would slide off his left arm, but he couldn’t risk a disabling cut to his right arm, or anywhere else for that matter. He’d been using wooden replicas that weighed the same as the Katanas, but decided to move his training along while Dean was gone. He didn’t feel that it was fair to put the burden of the library’s defense on the shoulders of the two young hunters in residence and so was pushing his training with the blades. He wasn’t sleeping well without Dean beside him anyway, so had been getting up before dawn every day since they’d left to put in a couple hours of practice before breakfast.  
As he was cleaning his blades he felt another presence in the field, he hadn’t heard anything but there was definitely someone or something approaching from the left side. He adjusted his grip on his right hand blade (they wouldn’t be named until he mastered the forms), stood and had his blade at the intruder’s throat in the blink of an eye.  
“Hey, Sam! It’s me Elisa, stand down before you give me a second smile,” the young hunter was unarmed and had her hands held up to show the same.  
“Sorry Elisa, but what are you doing approaching without announcing yourself? I could have taken your head off,” the mage sheathed the blade and grabbed the other at the same time accidentally nicking his hand as he slid the blade home. He didn’t have to worry about blooding them each time he drew them until they were named, which made practice with the live steel a little more appealing than it would be if you had to cut yourself every time you drew the blades for practice.  
“I thought you heard me, your shoulders stiffened when I stepped out the doors. You cut yourself. You know you don’t have to bleed for them until they’re named, right?”  
Sam sighed, “Yeah, I know. It was an accident and it’s not bad. It’ll heal in no time.”  
“It better heal before Dean returns. I don’t want him to think we did that to you while sparring. He’s kind of touchy about you,” Elisa was smiling as she finished her sentence. Everyone knew Dean worried more about his partner than he did himself and no one wanted to be on the receiving end of one of his ‘I expect you to take better care of him’ lectures.  
“Don’t worry it’ll be a memory before we meet with them in Lincoln. Even if it wasn’t I’d tell him I was practicing on my own,” Sam smiled at the hunter. “Breakfast ready?”  
“Yeah, I was coming to get you before the other guys ate it all. You’re getting pretty good with the forms. Dean will be impressed,” Elisa led the way through the doors leaving Sam to get them closed.  
Sam grabbed the right hand door with his bloodstained right hand and was surprised to see the blood actually soak into the metal handle. “Hey Elisa, come here.” He waited for the hunter and then placed his hand on the handle again. Like the first time, the blood he transferred to the handle was soaked up into the metal. “Have you ever seen anything like that before?”  
“Do it again!”  
The mage placed his hand on the metal handle and just like the previous two times the blood that had been left on the surface disappeared into the handle. “That is really strange,” Sam grabbed the door, ready to muscle it closed like he’d been doing since they’d arrived. The doors worked smoothly for Dean but Sam had to actually throw his entire body weight into getting them to move. This time however, so little force was needed, the door seemed to close of its volition. “Okay, this is now beyond strange. These doors have resisted me since we moved into the place. See if you can close the other one.”  
Elisa grabbed the left door and pulled with all her might but the door wouldn’t budge. “Nope, still not moving for me.”  
“This is so strange,” Sam walked over and the door closed as easily as the first one had done. “I wonder if I’ve been here long enough that now the place finally recognizes me. Let’s go get breakfast and I’ll get this cut bandaged up. I’ll see if Mika and Rafe have ever heard of anything like this.”  
Once Sam had eaten and showered he sat in the room he shared with Dean to dress his wound. The room felt empty and dead even when he would normally be in there alone anyway. He never thought he’d ever be so entwined with someone else to the point where being apart caused him physical pain. He was keeping track of the days on a scrap of parchment and knew they were about halfway through their separation. He’d never felt time move so slowly in his life and he didn’t think he could let Dean go off without him again. It was just too hard. He laughed thinking that Dean would call him all kinds of a girl if he knew how much he was suffering, but he didn’t really care, he missed his mate. He’d jerked off in the shower, but his cock was making a valiant attempt at getting his attention again and he had to adjust himself so that he could walk into his class without showing the students exactly how much he missed Dean.  
Later that afternoon Sam called the bards and the techno-magi together in the small den off the main library. He told them about what had happened with the doors earlier that day. “Have any of you ever heard of anything like this before?”  
“Not exactly,” Mika spoke up. “But didn’t Dean say he was bleeding the first time he had contact with the door at the top of the stairs? You know when he was fighting those crossroad demons, or whatever they were.”  
“That’s right, I’d forgotten about that. The question still stands though, have any of you heard or read anything about something like this?” Other than Dean’s story of finding the library, Sam had never heard of anything even remotely like what had happened this morning and to be honest, Dean had never mentioned the blood actually soaking into the metal. He mentioned the same to the others.  
“Yeah but remember, he was fighting for his life. I doubt he stopped to really look at the handle before pushing through the door,” added Nate. “Jason’s found quite a few documents dealing with the construction of this place in his search for information on how the place maintains itself. I can help him search for more of them. We’re fortunate that the language used is so close to our own.”  
“He’s right, I can almost understand everything I read, and what I don’t,” Jason shrugged. “I’ve always been pretty good with mechanics and can pretty much figure out what just about anything is meant to do. Maybe I should take a look at the doors.”  
Rafe shifted in his chair, “There are old songs and stories that give blood the power to bind people together and perhaps this is something similar. Once you bleed on the doors it could possibly trigger some kind of binding, a spell or maybe a vow tying the person bleeding to the structure. I specify the doors because I’m sure blood’s been spilled in the kitchen and that hasn’t changed things for anyone.”  
“That’s a good thought Rafe. Do you think you could track down any of those songs or stories here? Maybe there’s some additional information in them that we can use,” it bothered Sam that the door had seemed to drink his blood. It was just a little too unusual to discount out of hand.  
“Sure, Mika and I can start looking though the music and fiction sections and see if we can find anything that specifically mentions blood spells or bindings. In the meantime maybe one of us could nick ourselves and see if the door responds in the same way. It would be convenient if by bleeding on the doors we could all gain access to the library even when you and Dean are away.”  
“Good idea Rafe, we can try that tomorrow. I’m going to go through some of the older journals on the shelves. Some of them probably date from the time the library was built. There could be some information there as well. Let’s meet again tomorrow at about the same time to discuss what we’ve learned. Jason and Nate, you two are excused from lessons for the next day or so. I want you to devote all your time to finding more information on the way this place works.”  
Sam dismissed the others and grabbed a couple of the journals from the closed bookcase before settling back into his favorite chair. He wished he could remember exactly what Dean had said when he told him the story of finding the library. Truthfully he was surprised he remembered anything he’d said that night. He’d been so glad to see the hunter again that it was all he could do to not stop listening and just watch his mouth moving while touching him to make sure he was real.  
The months that they’d spent in the library with its wealth of books had given Sam a much better grasp of the early language used by the various journalists whose work had been cataloged in the closed bookcase and he was able to read through them much faster than he had previously done. The bigger hurdle now was the handwriting and the fact that each journalist seemed to use a different system of abbreviation. It was clear that the journals were books that would be used by an individual throughout their life and then placed here for safe keeping. The shorthand and abbreviations were too individualized to allow the books to be easily read by another person.  
The mage was so entranced by what he was reading he worked through dinner and well into the night. He’d been keeping notes of words that regularly repeated throughout the various books. His back was cramped and he was developing a headache by the time he decided to call it a night. After raiding the kitchen for a snack and a glass of water (still amazed that there was so much water) he glanced over his notes one last time as he carefully placed the journals back on their respective shelves. He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes, certain he was just seeing Dean’s name repeated over and over in his notes due to the fact that he missed him so much. Another, more careful review of his notes proved that he wasn’t seeing things that weren’t there. The name Winchester was indeed repeated in a number of the journals. They’d also found the name engraved on several of the ranged weapons kept on display and he now assumed that the name was indicative of the weapons’ owner rather than a manufacturer as he’d first thought.  
It was hard to say in this new world structure if a name was common or not. Most people who’d survived the first waves of demons abandoned their original surnames in favor of names that were more descriptive so that people would be able to associate each other with something familiar. He had always been known as Brother Samuel of the Priory of Scion. His name held his title and his home. Others were named for their trade or craft. Dean had said that many of his fellow hunters were known as so and so Hunter. Others bore the name of their town as their second name. Dean was one of the only people Sam knew with such an unusual surname. He’d asked him about it and Dean said it was what his father and grandfather had always called as well. He wasn’t sure of the origin, but knew his father was proud of the name and made sure Dean was as well.  
Sam made a note to ask Dean about it again when they were back home together again. He also planned to show him the journals and see what he could make of them. Since his name was repeated in them there was a chance his father had said something in that past that Dean would remember when seeing the books. One thing was certain, there was far more to the library than either of them had imagined when they first took residence.  
Seeing Dean’s name so often throughout the evening made their room seem even lonelier and Sam sighed as he looked at their bed and imagined another night spent tossing and turning while trying to find the warmth and solid presence of his partner. After carefully folding his clothes and running his hands over the extra shirt Dean had left behind, Sam finally crawled into bed and pulled Dean’s pillow to his face trying to find his lingering scent.  
Winchester kept running through his mind and felt himself harden and grown longer as he rubbed himself against the sheet trying to relieve some of the pressure. There was just the faintest scent of Dean on his pillow and it was enough combined with his name to make Sam hornier than usual. He gave up and rolled on his back, his legs spread and his whole body primed for his partner, a partner who was hundreds of miles away.  
His hands seemed to grow a will of their own as they began to move down his body, one hand stopping to pinch his nipples into hard, sensitive peaks that communicated directly with his dick. Sam felt himself thrust up against nothing and moaned again at the absence of his partner. He wanted to feel Dean’s tongue fucking into his mouth as his hands worked their way down his body. Wetting one of his index fingers in his mouth he ran it lightly over his hole, his cock spilling slick in bursts as his entire body came alive.  
Sam teased himself by pressing his finger into his ass while lightly stoking his cock and spreading the slick down to his balls and to his hole to ease the passage of his finger. It wasn’t nearly as good as having Dean touching him, but with his scent on the pillow Sam could pretend for a little while longer. He got his finger in as far as he could with this awkward angle and knew from experience he wouldn’t be able to reach his prostate, but enjoying the feeling of it in his ass anyway. With his eyes closed he imagined that his love was there and helping him jerk himself off, Dean’s hand over his as he thrust up into his fist varying the pressure as he moved from the top to the bottom and up again.  
When he was close he pulled his finger out of his ass and used his right hand to gently squeeze his balls, trying to apply the same amount of pressure that Dean did when he held and massaged them. He wasn’t fooled, he knew he was alone, but in his mind he saw Dean’s darkening green eyes and his tongue just peeking through his lips before lowering his mouth to claim his in another soul searing kiss. He could feel his release just below the surface of his skin and he was so close that he could almost feel it come alive with sensation. As he imagined the kiss he jerked himself a couple more times and came with a shout. His release rushed through his body and concentrated in his balls before white ropes of come splashed his chest and belly, and spilled over his hand. He came so hard, that his balls actually ached and he gently massaged them as he worked himself through his orgasm.  
Once his breathing returned to normal and his come had cooled on his skin enough to be uncomfortable, he wiped himself clean with a small square of silk. Despite the physical relief provided by his orgasm, Sam was still aching for Dean and pulled his pillow to his chest as if he were cradling Dean’s head and tried to drift off to sleep to hopefully dream of his love’s return.

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬The central offices of the Bardic College were located in an area once known as Champagne, amid the broken buildings of what had been a place of knowledge and higher education. Liam, the new head of the college, was sitting in the chancellor’s office surrounded by a mess of his own making. He’d pulled every book from the shelves, overturned every drawer and pulled the paintings off the wall looking for something, anything that Fellini had left behind providing insight into exactly what he’d been involved with prior to his death, as well as the pages that contained the secrets the College had been collecting since its inception. The secrets were their own particular brand of insurance against insurrection by the other orders and were passed from Chancellor to Chancellor once the office changed hands. Liam had been left without this most vital knowledge and he was unhappy…..well, angry.  
The College was primarily known for training students in music and the other arts (poetry and writing, painting, drawing, acting) but these legitimate classes served to hide the college’s true purpose. The Bardic College recruited and trained spies. The musicians and actors that roamed the countryside providing entertainment and news for the masses were inordinately skilled at sleight of hand, misdirection, asking questions that were seemingly harmless and hearing even a whisper of any kind of dissent. The performers were rotated around almost constantly and were so innocuous that even the most paranoid, the Techno-magi, welcomed them when they came to town to play.  
The bardic leadership’s currency at the top of the pyramid of power was information and this made them very, very wealthy indeed. That’s why Liam knew that Fellini had to have had a place where he kept the most precious, most valuable secrets the order had. Liam had been second to Fellini (the first order of business Liam conducted upon learning about his mentor’s death was to proclaim that he was no longer to be known as “The Great”. The title had annoyed him forever) for the last ten years. He’d been groomed to ascend to his place after his death but the stupid, arrogant, old man had refused to give Liam the location of their most prized secrets. He was sure he had years to live and didn’t want to risk having another person knowing where they were kept.  
“Arrrgggghhhhh!” Liam growled in frustration as he ran his arm over the desk and knocked the books and papers he’d been looking at to the floor. “Baldric! Get your ass in here and clean this place up while I search his quarters again. That old fool had to have kept them near. He wouldn’t have trusted them outside his line of sight for too long.”  
“Perhaps that that’s the key, master? Perhaps they were never out of his sight?” Baldric had worked for Liam these last five years as his secretary as well as his personal servant and knew his master’s moods very well. Right now he didn’t want his master’s wrath to focus on him…..again.  
“Don’t be an idiot even he wasn’t stupid enough to ride around with those pages on him. Besides, we’d have heard from the others by now if they’d discovered the pages after he fell. That vicious bitch Devora wouldn’t have wasted a moment announcing some of the information he had to the general populace in order to ensure our ultimate downfall.”  
“Sir?”  
“What now!”  
“Maybe the hunter got them first. He was the one that killed him. It’s said the hunter doesn’t know how to read and counts on one of his seconds to do it for him. If he’s got the pages then he might not yet know what he carries.”  
Liam looked at his aide and for once saw past his small stature and instead focused on his unnaturally blue eyes, “what you say has merit and perhaps it could have happened as you imagine, but I’m not content to stop looking just yet. Clean this up and I’ll be back once I’ve gone through his sleeping chamber again.”  
The new chancellor stalked down the hall toward Fellini’s chamber, his multicolored cloak spreading out behind him almost like a pair of bizarrely colored butterfly wings. He was agitated and knew he wouldn’t rest well until he found the accursed pages.  
“Fellini, you great fool,” he muttered as he entered the dead man’s chamber. “Your stunning display of mistrust and stupidity could spell the end of the order if I can’t find the pages containing our insurance. Think man, think!” Liam once again pulled the mattress off the bed frame and cut into it with his knife, carefully removing the straw and using the first few handfuls to kindle a fire in the grate. After destroying the soft furnishings in the room, including the drapes and tapestries, he started on the wooden pieces carefully break each item in small pieces before feeding them to the fire.  
He finally turned his attention he stone blocks linking the walls and the floor, tapping each surface and listening carefully for a change in tone while at the same time studying the pattern to see if he could find something that was out of place. Sweating and swearing he finally sat down in the center of the now denuded room with his head in his hands. It has got to be somewhere that Fellini would always have access to but that others wouldn’t give a second thought. Think! He told himself. The man was a fool.  
Baldric approached the dead chancellor’s chambers hesitantly, he didn’t want to set his master off again, but it was his job to ensure the man was fed even in the midst of a serious bout of creativity. He pushed the door open enough so that he could see his master sitting on the floor, the rest of the room reduced to the few things that wouldn’t burn. “Master?” he called out softly.  
“What is it now, Baldric?” Liam lifted his eyes and saw that his servant had brought his dinner and a flagon of ale. “You can set those here,” he gestured with his hand to the floor beside him.  
The servant stood back after placing the meal on the floor and waited silently as his master ate.  
“Stop staring and sweep the rest of this crap up. Once you’ve done that you can arrange to have my things moved into this room, it’s bigger and I like the location better.”  
Baldric stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at his master, “Tonight?”  
“Gods Baldric, you get more stupid every year. Of course not tonight, where the hell would I sleep? The stables? Tomorrow is fine.” The chancellor drained the flagon. “Never mind the sweeping, you can do that tomorrow as well, bring me some more ale and then make yourself scarce. You’ve annoyed me enough for one day.”  
The small man hurried to refill his master’s drink. He wasn’t always such a harsh taskmaster, but the death of the old chancellor had put his master in a foul mood. Baldric didn’t think anything would help until he found the papers he was looking for; it was too bad his master wasn’t in the mood to listen to him.  
Once he dropped off the refilled flagon Baldric went to the stables, his master wouldn’t be expecting him back until the morning which suited him just fine. He’d been thinking about the old chancellor all day and had remembered that he’d always been very particular about his saddle and saddle cloth. He usually had his own servant take care of them rather than leave them to the care of one of the stable boys. As he approached the stable he wondered, not for the first time what had happened to Fellini’s tack.  
Baldric had always liked horses and kind of wished he’d ended up serving as a groom or stable boy rather than a secretary to the man who was now the chancellor. Horses were patient and loveable; his boss was kind of an ass. He stopped and patted each horse on the nose as he made his way down the main aisle of the large stable. Fellini had ridden a small, chestnut mare with a white star on her forehead. He had, predictably, called her Star. Baldric thought that the bards would have had a little more imagination, but Fellini liked to keep things simple where and when he could.  
It was that very fact that had made Baldric’s thoughts return to the former chancellor’s tack. He seemed to recall that it had even been stored in his rooms rather than in the stable and that was unusual even for a man as strange as Fellini. Now where the hell did the tack go? Baldric was now at Star’s stall and he was stroking her neck while feeding her an apple he’d filched from the kitchen. Where would I put tack that no longer needed special treatment? The servant let himself into the horse’s stall and sat in a corner as he turned the puzzle over and over in his mind while watching the mare doze.

Dean wandered up and down the streets of Mt. Laurel with two objectives. Find Gabe and find something he could bring back for Sam. The weight of the silver ring on his hand comforted him and yet made him conscious of the fact that he had nothing nearly as personal to give to Sam. It bothered him that his father had never given him anything more personal than a knife for self-defense when he turned ten. As he walked he tried to think of anything else he’d ever been gifted by his father and came up empty no matter how he tried to twist things to fit. Sam’s parents had left him their most personal items when he was an infant and his own father, who’d known him all of his life never felt that it was necessary to give him anything and now, he was missing and presumed dead.  
The fact was, when Dean stripped his memories down to their very core, John had never even expressed feelings of pride or gods forbid love for him. Growing up he’d felt that nothing he could do would ever be good enough for his dad. It didn’t matter that he became a master swordsman at a younger age than most or that he brought in his first techno-mage bounty (yeah, he was ashamed of that now) before most of his peers, his father was never satisfied, never expressed even an ounce of pride. There were times when he was growing up that Dean thought his old man wouldn’t even notice if he failed to return from a hunt. His uncle Bobby said it was just the way his father was and to not take it personally, but it was tough growing up knowing your father thought so very little of you…..when he even bothered to think of you at all. It was as he was shaking off the painful memories of his father that Dean finally saw the perfect place to get a gift for Sam.  
Gabe was on his own hunt through the streets. He didn’t like what he’d heard that morning and wanted to get Dean and get out of town as quickly as possible. He’d even removed the multicolored cloak that designated him a bard and tucked it under his arm so that he’d call less attention to himself. If the rumors he’d heard were true, then they had little time to spare. Dean had been recognized and there were several groups of hunters on the streets ready to grab him and drag him the guildhall for judgment. They didn’t have much time at all.  
The hunter left the tattoo shop pleased, even if his hip was hurting ever so slightly. The artist had done a design that looped the ‘S’ in Sam’s name with the ‘D’ in his and he then inked each initial in a different color. Dean couldn’t wait to get home to show it to Sam. He had the artwork so that if Sam wanted a matching one it could be done at any tattoo place they could find. He knew it wasn’t something tangible to Sam, like the ring, but he hoped, no, he knew Sam would be pleased and would understand the implied forever behind the mark.  
It was a rare occurrence for Dean, but he wasn’t paying a lot of attention to his surroundings. He was deep inside his own head thinking about getting back home and showing the mark to Sam so he didn’t notice that he’d picked up a couple of hunters who were intent on following him. He was moving with purpose, but still looking for Gabe and paying less attention to the other people on the street than he should have been. He finally saw the bard moving toward him. He was gesturing with his hands but Dean didn’t know what he was trying to communicate, so he stopped to wait for Gabe to get to him. It was that instant that Dean realized the bard had been trying to get him to run.  
The two hunters who’d been following him caught up to him and each took an arm and held him securely between them. “Don’t struggle, don’t make a scene or people, innocent people, will get hurt. Understand me Winchester?”  
“I don’t know who you’re talking about, my name’s not Winchester it’s Hunter the same as yours,” Dean lowered his voice and put a look of confusion on his face as he looked from one man to the other.  
“If we’ve made a mistake it will be cleared up at the guildhall and we’ll be letting you go with our apologies, but for the time being you’ll be our guest. Come along quietly so we don’t have to hurt you,” the other hunter turned back in the direction of the guildhall, neither man loosening his grip.  
“Fine, but you’re making a mistake and our leadership won’t be happy with you bringing in the wrong man,” Dean looked back and caught Gabe’s eye. He made a gesture that was either go along quietly I don’t care, or go along quietly and I’ll figure things out. Dean was desperately hoping for the latter.  
“Pipe down! We don’t need the town knowing our business, do we?” The threesome was walking quickly but trying hard to blend in with the other street traffic so as to not draw too much notice. “I told you we’d sort it out at the guildhall and that’s what we’ll do. Nothing for you to worry about if you are called Hunter and not Winchester.” The two goons tightened their hold and continued to propel him along.  
Dean was furious at himself for letting his guard down. He knew Mt. Laurel, of all their stops was going to be the most dangerous for him since he was fairly well known here. He shook his head as he was marched to the guildhall. He’d have to try to convince them that he was just a Hunter. His hair was longer than ever and his beard covered his jawline. He figured it might be his green eyes that were the give-away, if anyone had ever made note.  
The bard stood and watched as the two other hunters forcibly guided Dean down the street, around the corner and presumably on to the guildhall. He’d told Dean to stick close to the inn and the market area where he’d be able to blend in a little better with the crowd, but it appeared he’d gotten bored. Gods damn it, Gabe thought as he turned to head back to the inn. He’d have to pack up Dean’s things and hope he could bribe the innkeepers to keep the fact that they’d arrived together to themselves. Dean’s gear and swords he could take to the stable and conceal using the concealment device they’d taken with them as a precaution. He needed to get a message back to the library, but they were weeks away and they hadn’t yet established a rookery for ravens. There was a minstrel in town he trusted and he could ask him to take a message to the inn in Lincoln, it would take time but he didn’t see another option.  
The two hunters who had captured Dean stripped him of his knives and threw him in a cell. Every guildhall had a couple of them which were used when hunters got out of hand or got too drunk to function. Dean had spent a night or two in a few of them for fighting with other hunters and while they weren’t nearly as nice as the inn, they weren’t as awful as the cells that the town used for other troublemakers. At least Gabe had seen what happened and the guy was smart. If anyone could figure out a way to get Dean out, it would be the bard. He just had to stick to his story of mistaken identity and wait for Gabe to get him out…..one way or another. He trusted the bard and was glad Sam wasn’t with them. Sam……fuck it all, he thought. How the hell were they going to let Sam and the others know what happened?  
“Jeff, did you send a raven to our leader? He demanded to be notified once we secured the prisoner,” Roger, the head of the local guildhall addressed his second as he poured them both a cup of ale. “What have you set up in terms of guards for him? We can’t risk losing him at this point the old man would brand us traitor as well.”  
“Yeah, he’s got a real hard on for this guy. Know what that’s about?” Jeff, adjusted himself as he sat at the wooden table.  
“Right, you wouldn’t know,” Roger sometimes forgot that not everyone knew the true identity of the man who headed the federation. “The prisoner’s his son and he’s furious that his own blood not only killed other hunters, but killed them to assist a cyborg. He’s going to be making an example of his boy.” The older man drained his cup and poured more ale for both of them, “I almost feel sorry for Winchester. Gods knew the scum he executed were barely worthy of the blades they carried, but taking up with one of the cyborg just can’t be tolerated. Big John is going to make sure his boy pays and pays publicly for shaming him.”  
Jeff shook his head suddenly sorry for the man they’d captured, “So, how secret is the big guy’s identity?”  
“Very few know the truth. In fact, his son was never told that he’d been elevated to head of the order. I was the one to tell him that both his father and uncle disappeared on a hunt and were presumed dead. It happens often enough that he never questioned me other than to ask what had happened to their blades.” Roger’s mind drifted back five years as he remembered his conversation with the younger Winchester. He’d thought at the time that the kid took the news really well, but figured he was in shock and would have a delayed reaction once he was alone. Now he wondered where the two Winchester’s stood in regard to each other.  
“Captain, there’s a guy here to see the prisoner. Is he allowed visitors?” Cliff was the hunter currently on duty at the front door.  
“Who is he? Another hunter?”  
“He says he’s a minstrel and that he hired Winchester as a guard while traveling the blasted lands since the demon activity’s been so much worse lately,” Cliff scratched at his beard as he waited on his captain’s decision.  
“He say why he wanted to see him?” Roger was unsure whether or not their leader would want his son to have visitors, but he couldn’t really think of a good reason to refuse since it wasn’t unusual for the friends of the prisoners they held to bring them food and drink.  
“The usual, he’s got a meal for him and some cider. Figures we won’t feed him nothing.”  
“Let him in, but Jeff, you go and keep an eye on them. Stay close enough that you can interfere if they try passing anything through the bars other than the food and drink,” Roger figured he’d let the guy’s friend feed him and that way he didn’t have to waste his time or the guildhall’s coin on food for the condemned man.  
Gabe followed the guard back to the cells. He hoped they’d give him a little privacy so that he and Dean could talk openly, but didn’t expect it. At least Dean’s reading had gotten to the point where he could pass a written message through the bars along with the food and drink.  
The sound of the gate opening caught Dean’s attention and wondered what they had planned for him. As a traitor he didn’t expect to be treated kindly but he figured they’d keep him alive long enough to executed publicly. The thought of his execution made his thoughts return to Sam and the fact that he’d never see Sam again and so was startled when Gabe stopped in front of his cell.  
“Hunter, I’ve brought your dinner. It’s the least I can do for you until they determine that you’re not the man they’re looking for,” Gabe handed him a wrapped parcel containing bread, cheese and a bit of chicken as well as a tin container of cider. “They won’t allow glass back here,” Gabe offered in explanation for the tin.  
“Thanks,” Dean moved to set the food on his cot but was stopped by the bard.  
“Open the package and make sure everything is to your liking so I’ll know what not to bring in the future. I’ll feed you as long as you’re here. It’s the least I can do,” Gabe sat crossed legged outside the cell as he waited for Dean to open the package.  
“Sure, thank you. It’s very generous,” Dean opened the parcel, saw the small printing and nodded to Gabe that he knew what he’d done. “This meal is perfect, again, very generous of you and I thank you.”  
“There was another minstrel leaving today and heading north. He asked if we’d travel with him since the larger the party, the safer the passage, but I told him I planned to wait a couple of days to see if we could work out this identity issue. I recommended they stay at that inn in Lincoln where we met,” the bard kept his tone conversational and made an effort to sound slightly bored at the recitation of this bit of information.  
“Good thinking. That was a nice place, I’m sure he’ll be welcomed there,” Dean interpreted the message, correctly, to mean that Gabe had sent him north with a message for the others. “Hopefully he makes it there without any trouble on the road.”  
“Amen,” Gabe watched as Dean tucked the paper with the note under his pillow before he passed everything else back. “I’ll be back tomorrow around noon with more food. In the meantime I’ll see if I can find anything to prove who you are, but you travel so lightly I don’t think I’ll have much luck. Don’t worry I’ve put your blades someplace safe. Take care.”  
Gabe motioned to the guard and the two of them moved down the hall and through the gate. Dean heard the lock engage and felt more alone than he had in a long time. At least Gabe had gotten his things out of their room and secured them for him. It would kill him to lose Honor and Courage. He wouldn’t be expected to turn them in until after his trial and he hoped that it never got that far, but if it did he hoped Gabe would somehow find another set of blades to give him to turn in.  
When he was sure the guard wasn’t coming back he reached under his pillow and withdrew the small scrap of parchment. The writing was tiny and it was hard to read for that reason alone, but Gabe had used simple words and Dean was able to read the message without too much trouble: I sent for help. Am working on a way to contact Sam. Keep telling them you’re called Hunter.  
The hunter closed his eyes and prayed to the god he hoped was still listening to keep Sam safe, even if it truly meant he’d never see him again. He could die with dignity as long as Sam was all right. His prayer finished he tore the parchment into tiny pieces and swallowed them with a handful of the water they’d left in his cell for washing and drinking. Once the message was gone, he lay down on the cot and let himself think about Sam while he twisted the ring on his finger. When the tears came this time, he let them fall.

Brother Sam wiped the sweat from his face, ran a hand through his hair and rubbed at the back of his neck where the headache he’d battled the last few days seemed to be concentrated. If it lasted much longer he was going to have to brew up some of the tea that the bard had taught him to make. It was still the only thing that relieved his pain when he’d overused his gift. He hadn’t thought he’d been using his gift, but he was blocking his thoughts the way Gabe had taught him and he figured that the headache was the result of keeping his thoughts to himself rather than broadcasting them.  
“You feeling all right, Sam?” Mika looked over at the mage whose pain was etched in the squint of his eyes as well as the pallor of his skin. “That headache still hanging around?”  
Sam shook his head to clear away a few of the cobwebs, “yeah, I can’t seem to shake it. It feels like there’s a net around my head that is getting tighter and tighter. I’ll make some of Gabe’s tea when we finish up out here.”  
They had been working together in the barn hanging the stall doors. The barn was just about finished and the students were working on extending the fencing on their pasturage so that they could accommodate a few more animals. Sam planned to get a couple of goats for milk and chickens for eggs the next time they went to town. He thought having access to some fresh food would help keep their meals from being too boring and improve the general morale. It took Sam a minute to realize that Mika had been speaking to him. “Sorry, Mika, what did you say?”  
“I said my roommate back at the collage had your gift and sometimes, when she first started blocking her own thoughts, she worked a little too hard at it and ended up blocking any incoming thoughts as well. It used to give her the worst headaches until she figured out where the line between ‘just enough to block her thoughts and still receive messages’ lay. Maybe someone’s trying to get a message to you?”  
“I don’t see how. The only person who knows about my gift and has the ability to send me anything is hundreds of miles away. I don’t imagine thoughts could carry that far, even if the sender is really skilled. I think I’ve just been overdoing it with the blocking. I’ll take the tea and see if I can back off a bit. Hopefully that will get rid of the pain,” Sam began sweeping up the sawdust that had accumulated from sanding and leveling the doors. “It’ll be nice to have a secure place for the animals. I worry about them at night.”  
“And that’s the reason you’re not sleeping, right? Nothing to do with Dean being gone at all,” Mika smiled at the giant mage as he blushed. “It’s not a crime to miss your love and it’s not a crime to admit that you’re missing him.”  
“I know it’s just that everyone here is missing someone, somewhere and Dean and I have each other most of the time. It feels wrong to be at such loose ends without him. The last thing I need is for the students to think they can get away with less effort just because I’m preoccupied. Dean would have my head if I let them slack while he’s away,” Sam laughed which caused a spike of pain to rip through his head from the base of his skull through to his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mika. I’ve got to get inside and brew that tea. My head’s just getting worse. I can send one of the students to help you clean up.”  
Mika shook her head, “No, I’ve got it covered. You go in and see if you can rest a bit. I’ll check on the students and if they’re finished send the dinner crew in to get started on our meal. Rafe is in the main library pouring over those novels he found in that far lab. Let him know you’re inside.”  
Sam headed back to the library, one hand still rubbing at the base of his neck. The pain wasn’t quite as bad as the first time Gabe had sent his thoughts to him, but it was getting close. Once inside he let Rafe know he was there and went to the kitchen to brew his tea.  
Mika had been right, he wasn’t sleeping well at all and spent most nights prowling around the library complex to keep the thoughts of Dean from consuming him. He figured he missed him a little more because he’d never really had anyone to miss before this. Sure, he knew his mom and dad had left him at the priory, but he’d never met them and wouldn’t be able to identify them on the street even if they were still alive. Students had come and gone from the priory all the time while he was growing up and while he noticed their absence, he’d never felt the acute sense of loss he was feeling now. He was sure that his headache could be attributed to Dean’s absence as well as overuse of his gift and hoped the tea, along with a short nap, would help to relieve some of the pain before it got much worse.

It took most of the morning, but Baldric finally located the old chancellor’s tack in one of the storerooms in the older part of the college. It was a strange place for anyone to have put the tack, but then Baldric thought that most of the bards were strange and rarely questioned the reasons behind the way they did things. He’d learned pretty quickly after his parents had sold him into service that the servants who went about their jobs with few complaints and even fewer questions seemed to avoid punishment and were allowed a little more freedom than the chronic complainers. He was torn, he knew he should bring the tack to his master, the new Chancellor, but had an almost instinctual need to keep his find to himself. This wasn’t something he was entirely comfortable with, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the tack needed to stay concealed.  
He didn’t want to put it back where he found it, he didn’t know who had hidden it there and was worried they’d return and move it so that he’d have to search for it again. As he sat thinking and running his hands over the oh-so-soft and hand-tooled leather, Baldric searched his mind for the perfect spot to conceal the tack. It had to be somewhere that wasn’t used every day and wasn’t known to many. The longer he thought about it, the more sure he was of his answer.  
To the best of Baldric’s knowledge there was no secret panel in the Chancellor’s office or bedroom, but there was a secret room off of the small library that housed the college’s very small collection of natural history books. No one ever went in there unless it was a servant trying to get away for a few minutes break. The bards had no use for the history books, but were too stubborn to just hand them over to the magi and so they sat untouched on their shelves. It was one of Baldric’s weekly tasks to dust the room and twice a year he removed each book from its shelf and wiped it clean with a dampened cloth.  
It was during one of these semi-annual cleaning cycles that Baldric discovered the hidden room. He had removed a book called “The Universe in a Nutshell” by a guy called Stephen Hawking to dust it and the bookshelf swung away from the wall, as if it were hinged. After he got off the ladder he peered into the darkness behind the shelf. He couldn’t see a thing. He put the book back and the shelf swung itself shut. Baldric got off the step ladder he was using and tried to pry the shelf away from the wall to no avail, but once he removed the book a second time, the shelving swung open again.  
Baldric quickly located a small lantern, lit it and went back to the opening. He leaned in cautiously, thrusting the lantern in front of him. It was still difficult to see into the room and so he took a step forward so that he was even with the opening behind the shelf. The room appeared to be a small, very private study. It was dusty and much of the furnishings had rotted away, giving the cloth the appearance of webbing. The wooden pieces however were dry and dusty, but still serviceable.  
The servant took another step into the room and the door swung shut behind him. He jumped, but managed to keep the lantern upright and still burning so he wasn’t closed in, in the dark. He could feel his panic begin to build. No one knew where he was and if he couldn’t find his way out this strange little room, it would become his crypt. He steadied his nerves with a couple of deep breaths and went to the door and looked it over carefully, trying to find some kind of latching mechanism.  
It wasn’t until he began to inspect the area around the door that he located a brick that was slightly raised. He pushed at it lightly and nothing happened. Baldric inspected both the door and the doorway again without finding anything else that looked any different so he tried to push the raised brick again. Still nothing and the lamp oil would only burn for about another half hour. Baldric brought the lantern up and inspected the raised brick again more carefully. He noticed marks on the brick above and below the raised one. He decided to see if he could turn the brick.  
Sure enough, once the brick was in the horizontal position the door quietly swung open. The servant stepped through quickly and replaced the book, closing off the entrance. He sat for some time in the small library shaking as he thought of his close call. Once his fear abated he thought that the small room would be a great, and secret, place that he could call his own. He spent the next few months gathering up items from other storerooms or little used sitting areas and bedrooms to furnish his own small space. Once he had the room arranged to his liking, he took to disappearing there at least once a month. It was nice to have a place where he couldn’t be found and where he could keep things he didn’t want the others to know he had.  
Baldric stayed hidden with the Chancellor’s tack until the college had quieted down for the night. It was after midnight when he moved the tack to his secret room. He knew he’d earned himself a beating from his master for being absent that evening, but something else more important was driving him and he couldn’t disobey the urge hide the tack and keep it secret. He knew in his heart that he’d know who the tack belonged to when the time was right. For now he felt the need to guard it with his life.

Sam removed and carefully folded his clothing before lying down on the small bed he usually shared with Dean. The bed felt huge and without the other man pressed up close to him, his arm and leg thrown over Sam as if claiming possession of him even in sleep. The pounding in his head had started to ease as he drank the tea and he turned on his side and buried his face in Dean’s pillow. It no longer held his scent, but it was Dean’s and that was enough to comfort Sam as he shut his eyes and tried to relax enough to release the block he’d placed on his thoughts.  
He could feel his cock trying to get hard and a part of him just wanted to grab it and pump it until he came, just for the release, but the pain behind his eyes was in control of everything at the moment and any kind of sexual release would have to wait until the pain eased, or better yet, went away completely.  
Breathing deeply and evenly, the mage walked through the mental exercises that Gabe had taught him. As he worked step by step through the process of dropping the curtain shielding his thoughts the pain dissipated enough to allow him to drift off to sleep.  
“Sam! Sam! Gods dammit Sam! Can you hear me?”  
Sam moaned and tossed on his bed, his hands holding on to his head as the voice continued to echo through his mind. He struggled to regain enough of a sense of calm to build his shielding curtain back up again.  
“Don’t Sam, stay with me. It’s Gabe, Sam. I need to talk to you. No! Don’t leave!”  
The pain was now just a memory, but the echoing voice wouldn’t go away. All Sam wanted was to sleep. “Go away, I don’t wanna talk. Sleep now,” Sam mumbled as he pushed at his head.  
“Let go Sam. Let the curtain fall and the pressure won’t be so bad. Let me in, it’s important.”  
Sam, still thrashing on his bed tried to let the curtain fall away, but he was too agitated to reach the part of his mind that controlled his gift.  
“Just like we practiced Sam, listen to my voice and let it guide you. Breathe deeply and evenly. In, one, two, three, four, five. Out, one, two, three, four, five. That’s it Sam, deeply and evenly. Good. Good. Now let your muscles relax one by one starting with your toes.”  
The voice was familiar and the exercise as comforting as the forms he worked with the quarterstaff and he allowed himself to be drawn into the trancelike state where his gift was accessible.  
“Good Sam, good job. Can you hear me?”  
“Gabe? Where are you? Are you home?” Sam began to thrash again, trying to rouse himself so he could go looking for Dean.  
“No, Sam, we’re not home. Breathe. Breathe. Relax…that’s it Sam. Open your eyes.”  
“Gabe! Where’s Dean? What…..what are you doing here? I mean, here, in my head and how?”  
“You are stronger than you know Sam. This was a shot in the dark. I didn’t know if I could reach you. Your shield wall is amazing. I was practically throwing myself at it to get your attention.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“The headache, Sam. That was me knocking at your door. I’ve never. You’ve gotten stronger.”  
“I’ve been practicing like you showed me.” Sam saw a shadow cross Gabe’s face in his vision. “What’s wrong Gabe and where is Dean? Why didn’t you bring him with you? I miss him.”  
“I know you do, Sam and I’m sorry.”  
“No! No!”  
“He’s not dead, Sam, not yet. The hunters got him and they’ve bound him over for trial.”  
“They’ll….he’s traitor! They’ll….”  
“I know that’s why I tried this. We need you and the others. You need to travel as quickly as you can to Mt. Laurel. You know where the gold is, right?”  
“Yes, I know. I’ll get us extra horses so we can travel faster. How long?”  
“I don’t know Sam. They want to make an example of him and I think they’ll wait until their leader can get here. Alternatively, they could move him to their fortress in St. Louis.”  
“How will I, we know?”  
“Every other night I’ll come to you like this. Now that you know you can do this it will be easier and there won’t be the pain of me trying to get your attention.”  
“Is he…..”  
“They have him in a cell, but so far he’s unharmed. I’m bringing him meals and small messages each day and I will let him know you’re on the way.”  
“No, don’t tell him. He won’t like it and, gods help us, if he doesn’t know, they can’t make him tell. The hunters have no moral compass anymore.”  
“Fine, you’re right. He knows I’ve sent a messenger to Lincoln and that will take time so he won’t expect to hear from you anytime soon. Get here as fast as you can. Bring everyone.”  
“How will…..”  
“We’ll talk strategy when we know where they plan to execute him….I’m sorry Sam, I shouldn’t have left him alone.”  
“Not your fault and I’ll…..I’ll….don’t let them hurt him, Gabe.”  
“Hurry. We’ll talk again in two nights.”  
Sam awoke with every cell in his body tingling from the mental contact and his physical body shaking from the strain. He stumbled as he got out of bed and tried to dress himself. Under his breath he repeated one word over and over, Dean.  
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬Dean worked through the katas that he’d continued to practice in his cell daily, despite not having Honor and Courage to work with. The body movements and balance were as much a part of battle as the cutting edges of his blades and keeping his body sharp would keep the forms and movements instinctual. Novice hunters more often than not came into the guild believing that sword play was nothing more than some random hacking and slashing at an opponent. Some left once they realized the amount of training they’d need to do before they ever picked up a blade. Others made it through the initial training only to drop out when they realized how difficult it was to meld the movements with their blades. Still others made it through the rigorous training only to balk at taking their final vows.  
Sweat was pouring down his bare chest as he put his body through the motions that had been second nature to him for most of his life. His father and uncle began his training shortly after his seventh birthday. His gift that year had been the wooden practice swords with which all novice hunters started their training. He’d been beginning his days with the katas ever since and the familiarity of the motions helped to ease his growing anxiety.  
The vows a hunter took on their blades and sealed with their own blood, bound them to the guild and to their fellow hunters. They were bound to assist fellow hunters in all things and protect them, even risking their own lives for them when necessary and more specifically they were to never intentionally bring harm to another hunter or dishonor to the guild. A violation of their vows was a serious offense with the offender branded traitor and execution was the standard punishment for turning traitor.  
Once he finished with his exercise, Dean dried himself off and sat on his cot waiting for his daily visit from Gabe. He sincerely believed that the men who’d taken and tortured Sam could no longer be considered hunters, and that their quick deaths at the edge of both Honor and Courage were too good for them and it saddened and angered him that his leadership wouldn’t agree. In their eyes the magi and especially the cyborg, were animals to be hunted and exterminated.  
His thoughts drifted to Sam. He was the kindest, most patient person he’d ever met and his refusal to let even an enemy bleed to death when he could help was still the most honorable act that Dean had ever witnessed. The mage had gambled and lost everything he’d ever known because he had refused to act with prejudice and with that sacrifice had won the hunter’s esteem and admiration. The quiet confidence he’d shown after his sentencing and the small kindnesses he’d shown him during his recuperation had made Dean question everything he’d ever been told about the Techno-magi and their cyborg. If only he knew how to convince the others that the magi and cyborg were no different from anyone else and in some cases were better.  
Dean was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of the main gate opening and closing again. It would be Gabe with his food for the day and with the gods’ blessing some news about his trial. He got up from his cot and sat cross legged on the floor at the cell door.  
“Hey Hunter,” the bard had been keeping with the pretense that he was just a hunter and not Dean Winchester and never called him anything other than Hunter. “I’ve got your food for the day, they’ve inspected it.”  
Dean took the offered package and set it on the floor next to him, “Have you heard anything more about my trial?”  
Gabe settled on the floor as well. “Yes and no regarding the trial. I know that they’ve made contact with the head of the order at their fortress in St. Louis and that they are waiting for his decision on whether or not he wants you moved there for your official identification and trial.”  
“Ugh,” the hunter shook his head. “You’d think they’d want to get this over with as quickly as possible.”  
“I’ve been told that because of the involvement of Winchester with a cyborg that they want to make an example of him, this unfortunately will affect you until they confirm you are not the Hunter they have been seeking.” Gabe motioned to the package he’d delivered with his eyes, “Why don’t you check what I’ve brought and see if there’s anything specific you’d like for tomorrow?”  
This request surprised Dean. Usually he and Gabe spoke for a bit before he left to let Dean eat and read whatever message he’d enclosed in the package. The hunter carefully opened the package that contained the meat pie, cheese and fruit, setting them aside as he studied the wrapper for Gabe’s message. His head shot up and he looked at Gabe, his eyes wide and his mouth open to speak.  
Gabe held a finger to his mouth to keep the hunter from blurting out anything incriminating and continued his patter, “I was able to get hold of my cousin Samuel who usually works to the northwest. The small bardic center here was able to send him a message via raven and he’s responded. He will join me here as soon as he can with a couple of clerks he knows. These clerks can read and write and will be invaluable if we actually have to take your case to trial.”  
The hunter was dumbstruck and could barely follow Gabe’s words. Sam! He’d made contact with Sam and he was on his way. It would almost be worse to have Sam in the area and be unable to see him. Gods! What if the guild discovered a cyborg among the citizens of Mt. Laurel? Trapped in his cell he wouldn’t be able to help him at all. He struggled to come out of his mind and pay attention to Gabe.  
“…..he and his men are on their way. They’ve got spare horses so should make good time. We worked out a way to communicate in case you end up being moved. Don’t worry, Sam is very capable and he wants to help us.”  
The guard motioned to Gabe that his time was just about up, so he stood and looked down at the hunter who was still sitting on the floor and touching the tiny printing on the wrapper. Gabe lowered his voice to an almost inaudible whisper, “he says he loves you and will make this right. He told me to tell you to not give up hope.” With that the bard turned and walked back toward the main cell block gate and waited for the guard to let him out.  
Dean moved back to his cot and looked at the writing again, “dream walked with Sam, he knows, will come.” As he ripped the message into small pieces that he could easily swallow he wished he had given Gabe a message for Sam. As badly as he missed his partner he was also scared for him and felt both small and helpless. After he swallowed the last of the message he turned his thoughts to the god that he wanted to believe, believed in him and prayed that regardless of what happened to him that his Sammy would be kept safe.

John Winchester eased himself from the back of the horse he’d been riding for the last five days. He hated the things in principle due to the fact that having one more being to look after while out on the road was just a colossal waste of time, energy and resources. The way they’d fucked up the water supply in the area meant that you needed to carry enough water for yourself and for your animal or be lucky enough to find a hidden source of water and pray that no one saw you drinking. In this case though, he’d needed the speed.  
The hunters-in-training took his horse away to the stable and he stalked through the halls of the Federation fortress to his quarters, calling for bath water, food and drink on the way. Once he closed the door behind them he turned to his second and addressed him while the scowl on his face deepened, “What do you mean they’re not sure they’ve got my son? How incompetent are the leaders we have on the ground in Mt. Laurel? It’s a simple enough question, he either is or he isn’t Dean!”  
John threw his gloves on his desk, sat down and began to ease his feet out of his boots. Peter Hunter, his second poured wine for both of them before taking a seat across the desk. “The man claims he is named John Hunter and that he’s never even met anyone named Dean Winchester, never even heard the name Winchester, period. Sure the men on the ground in Mt. Laurel have met your son, but they haven’t seen him for almost a year. People change.”  
“Gods dammit, Peter! They fucking don’t change that fucking much. Have they tried ‘persuading’ him to admit to his gods damned true name?” John drained the wine in his goblet and motioned for more.  
“No, John, they haven’t. I’ve forbidden any kind of torture,” Peter saw the glare in John’s eye and hastily corrected himself. “I mean persuasion until you got a chance to see him yourself. You know how overeager some of the men in the field can be. I didn’t want to risk losing him before you got a chance to question him.” Peter sipped at the wine as he waited for his superior’s reply fearful of reprisal.  
The leader of the Federation rubbed at his dirty face and beard, “Fuck it, you were right to stop them from any kind of fucking overzealous questioning.” John hated having to back down even a little bit, but his second was right, having Dean in custody wouldn’t do him any fucking good if he died before he could be executed on the parade grounds of the fortress in front of the Federation and the citizens. The whole point of picking him up was to make an example of him, to show the other hunters and the citizens in general that any kind of cooperation with the fucking cyborg was fucking forbidden and if you were a hunter, would be punished by death, even if you were the commander’s only fucking living son. “Did you tell them to move him here?”  
“Not yet,” the younger man hesitated before continuing, hoping he’d made the correct decision. “I wanted to make sure, considering the questions about his identity that you still wanted to bring the prisoner here. I didn’t want to put so many of our resources behind moving the wrong man.” Peter Hunter sat back and waited for his commander to explode.  
John tossed the information he’d been handed around in his head, sipping at his wine and letting his second sweat as he thought through the issue at hand. Unfortunately, Peter was correct in that many of the men stationed at the Mt. Laurel guild house would be required to securely move the prisoner. It would be a complete embarrassment if in the end the man wasn’t Dean or if he was Dean that he then escaped due to a lack of guards. Conversely, who would know the difference other than him? It had been years since he’d last seen Dean, he hoped he’d be able to recognize his own son. He did have those green eyes….John shook his head to chase away any emotion that was tickling at the edge of his mind before he spoke again. “Go ahead and send a raven to Mt. Laurel. Tell them to bring the prisoner here. I’ll be able to determine if this man is who he says he is or not. Either way we’ll schedule his execution for two weeks from the date he arrives. That should give you plenty of time to bring in as many hunters from the surrounding area as possible and get the parade ground ready for the spectacle. This will give the citizens something to look forward to – make sure you advise any hunters coming this way to gather up all the traveling brothers and other merchants as well as bards and minstrels. Let’s make this a festival that they won’t forget. After all, it’s not every day a man orders the execution of his own son.”  
The remaining wine was poured into their two goblets and the men drank in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Peter had been second to John for the last four years and had never met Dean. The commander was a harsh taskmaster and was not one to let mistakes go unpunished or bygones-be-bygones. The young hunter was eternally grateful that he wasn’t his commander’s son. He couldn’t imagine growing up under such harsh criticism. It didn’t surprise him in the least that Dean had defied his father, the man wasn’t someone who inspired either love or loyalty. The commander he served ruled by fist and by fear.  
Winchester looked up briefly as the door closed behind his second. He knew the man would get the ravens out before dark and that once the birds took flight the die would be cast. For better or worse he’d be facing, judging and then ordering the execution of one of his sons. He wondered, not for the first time, if he could trust Devora’s word regarding what had happened to the infant he’d left at the Priory of Scion all those years ago. The Techno-magi and Devora in particular had proven to be skillful liars in the past. She could have held on to Mary’s ring even if Sam had died. Gods knew she had no love for the hunters and would use any opportunity to fuck with their heads, especially his.  
He sent one of the guards at his door to bring him the only man he felt that both he and the Magi could trust. He’d send Rufus, first to Scion to see if his son had lived and then set him on Devora’s tail. After his friend lost his foot on a hunt they’d talked about whether or not John should just put the other man out of his misery. John, thinking ahead, decided that having a cyborg hunter in held reserve would one day prove to be useful and dropped his friend at one of the priories in order to get ‘healed’. Once the cybernetics had fused properly, Rufus left the priory and found his way back to John’s small cadre of hunters. Wearing boots, no one could tell that there was anything different about Rufus Hunter, the magi, once they saw his cybernetic replacement part would accept him as one of them without question. He was, as John had planned, the perfect mole.

“So, you share her bed more than I do, why’s she have such a hard-on about this cyborg. What’s he done to set her off? It’s not like there aren’t more where he came from,” Jeremy groused to his brother Joshua as they searched the area around the priory cabin they’d stopped at for the night looking for firewood.  
“I don’t think it’s what he’s done but who he is that makes him special to her,” the other twin piled a few more slender branches on his brother’s outstretched hands as he spoke. “The cyborg’s apparently the youngest son of John Winchester.”  
“No way! He’s only got the one son, a hunter, the one all the other hunters are looking for,” the younger twin figured his brother was pulling his leg and trying to make him look stupid by giving him false information. It wouldn’t be the first time.  
Joshua laughed at his twin’s indignant face, “No man, I’m telling you the truth. Apparently the cyborg was injured as an infant and left at a priory to die but the Apex intervened and ordered the amputation of his arm to keep him alive. He was offered the chance to become cyborg at 18 and he took it. Now the rumor is he’s taken up with Winchester’s other son and they’re killing hunters across the territories to strike back at their father, or as near as I can tell. I miss a lot because I have to pretend to be sleeping when she’s talking to her steward.”  
“OK, so say what you’re saying is true, and I’m not admitting I believe it, why does she care one way or the other about what he’s doing? She wanted a war with the hunters and these two seem to be well on the way toward making that happen,” Jeremy was trying really hard to see the hidden agenda that Devora was following. The main thing he’d learned during his time in the priory system was not to trust anyone, not even his own twin, and he wanted to form his own opinion about the situation, if possible.  
“Come on, we need to get back or she’ll get testier than usual,” the two men turned around and headed back the way they’d come. “I figure she’s all bent out of shape about the cyborg and the hunter because she had intended the cyborg’s identity to remain unknown until she was ready to spring it on the older Winchester. This alliance of theirs has pushed her hand and although I think she was satisfied at the reaction she got in Chicago, she had ultimately wanted the reveal to be more public. I’m sure the cyborg was her ‘ace up the sleeve’ in terms of dealing with Winchester and the hunters and now that he knows his younger son lives, she loses all the glory of bringing him down a peg publically.”  
The twins fell silent as they approached the cabin. Devora didn’t like a lot of chatter unless she was the one talking and they’d taken to communicating through subtle hand signals and the looks they’d exchanged their entire lives. The ones that allowed them to know just what the other was thinking. Once back at the cabin the younger twin went about starting a fire and getting a meal prepared while the older took care of the animals, a routine that rarely changed.  
“It’s about time you two got back, what kept you?” Devora addressed Jeremy without using his name; she rarely knew which one she was speaking to unless they were naked and even then there was only a 60/40 chance that she knew who she was sleeping with.  
“We had to go pretty far out for wood. This area has been picked pretty clean,” the twin avoided looking at his boss as he fed the fire trying to get a blaze that would warm the damp air.  
The Apex had her maps spread out on the table before her trying to plot the fastest route to Mt. Laurel. She wanted to get herself and her guards in the vicinity of the captured hunter so that she could intercept her cyborg once he made his inevitable appearance. It was unacceptable to her that he’d made an alliance with the hunter without permission and she had every intention of finding out the truth of the matter for herself. She didn’t for a minute trust the gossips in the priories or at the local taverns that she regularly had one of her Js infiltrate in order to pick up the local news.  
She watched the young man putting their meal together through lowered lashes. The dark haired, blue eyed twins were easy on the eye and not too bright. The perfect guards/companions, but she wished that she had someone she could talk to about her plans and the changes she’d have to make to keep things moving in the right direction. She was frustrated by the slow spread of the war she’d tried to start and wanted more than anything to declare herself sole rule over the territories sooner than later. However, in order to do so, she’d have to destroy the hunter’s guild herself. The cyborg Sam had been her secret weapon, the man would have brought Winchester to his knees if she could have unveiled him later in a more public venue. Now she’d have to hope that she could convince him to give up whatever relationship he had with his brother and join her in a united front against the Federation.  
Gods damn the fucking Winchesters, she thought. If she couldn’t pull Sam back into the fold, she’d have to get rid of all three of them in order to move her agenda ahead. Even one left alive could derail the plans she’d been making since she first took her vows. “You.”  
Jeremy looked up at her to make sure she was addressing him. He hated that she couldn’t be bothered to figure out how to tell them apart.  
“Go find the other one and we’ll discuss our travel plans over dinner. Don’t waste time; get back here as quickly as you both can.”  
Once the three of them had eaten, Devora sketched out their route without asking for input and caught the twins exchanging a look between them, “what, what are you two plotting? I hate it when you do that twin talk shit.”  
Joshua answered for the two of them, “It’s really nothing, Apex. We were plotting where the best spots would be to gather the supplies we’ll need once we’re on the road. You’re route doesn’t pass by any of the priories, so we’ll have to either find or trade for goods as we travel.”  
The Apex shook her head, half the time she was sure the twins were playing her, but she’d seen their communication work for them in the past and knew they were perfectly capable of passing each other at least that much information with a glance. “You’re right of course and it’s intentional. I don’t really wish any of the Masters to know where we’re headed. I don’t need anyone getting it into their thick skulls that they could be of assistance. We’ll need to travel quickly and each priory visit will slow us down. You can see there are several towns we can trade at as we travel.”  
“Um, Apex?”  
“What?!”  
“Well, how are we going to trade if it’s not a market day in a neutral zone?” Joshua looked at his younger twin and shook his head. “That is….I mean….I’m sure you’ve thought of that.” Jeremy added after catching his brother’s look.  
“Of course I’ve thought of it you moron, whichever one you are. I am the Apex for a reason. We will of course not announce we’re Techno-magi, we’re just travelers headed to Mt. Laurel for the mid-summer festival where we’re gathering with the rest of our family for a reunion.”  
Jeremy looked suitably chastened, “I’ll just take the first watch then and leave you two alone to finish planning.” His twin shot him a look that would have burned through him if it had contained any heat as he headed out to the barn. He made sure their gear was ready for the next day and thought about his position with the Apex.  
Both he and Joshua had been flattered when they’d been promoted to her personal guard. They’d discussed it at the time and figured it was a way for them to see the inside workings of the order and would increase the chances of one of them becoming a fulcrum or an Adam at one of the larger priories. Now though, after a year of traveling at Devora’s side, Jeremy was convinced the order was rotted from the inside out and he couldn’t imagine having anything to do with its governance. He wasn’t even sure he liked being called a Techno-mage, despite the vows he’d taken. The only reason he hadn’t broken away from Devora yet is that his brother remained unconvinced that anyone other than Devora was compromised. Joshua was convinced that under the right leadership the Techno-magi could easily rule over the sick and broken land while healing its citizens. He still had the convictions he did when they’d first entered the priory system.  
Jeremy watched the sun sink below the horizon and prayed that JobsGates show his brother the way out of the quicksand beds that made up the area surrounding Devora and those most loyal to her before it was too late to pull him out.

Part II – Trial  
The group from the library was approximately three days out of St. Louis when Sam called an early stop for the day at a run down, poorly maintained priory cabin. The primary draw of this particular place was its well, which still provided clear water. The company that had set out from the library had grown by two in Lincoln where two academy candidates were waiting for their entrance interviews. The mage Jessica and minstrel Travis were admitted to the rescue party and outfitted with a couple of horses and supplies after a brief interview by Sam and the bards.  
After Lincoln the party moved out quickly. Each member had two horses and they led a couple of pack animals as well, this allowed the party to change horses often keeping their mounts as fresh as possible even at the punishing pace Sam set. They were approximately a week out of Lincoln they came upon a single hunter who was headed toward Mt. Laurel where he had planned to resupply and catch up on hunter gossip. He was invited to ride with them and they identified themselves as a traveling minstrel show with hired hunters as guards to allay any suspicions the new man might have.  
The group was ten days out of Lincoln when Gabe reached out to Sam again and told him that they were moving Dean to St. Louis for his trial, sentencing and possible execution. David, the rogue hunter in the party was told that they had received word in the last town they’d stopped at for water that there would be golden opportunity for merchants and players in St. Louis for the festival that would coincide with the trial of the decade and they planned to take advantage of the chance to earn a windfall. David was curious enough about both the minstrels and the trial to ask if he could travel with them to St. Louis. He offered his blades as additional guards against demons and thieves. They changed direction the next day and after almost two weeks of hard riding, were now in a position to start discussing the actual logistics of their original mission.  
Sam dismounted and handed his horse off to one of the magi, directed the rest of the party to gather wood, search for anything edible and to take care of the animals. He put Jenna in charge and motioned to Mika and Rafe to follow him away from the cabin. There was a stand of scrub trees about a half a mile away and once they reached the grove, Sam removed the shirt he’d had to wear almost all day, every day since David joined them.  
“At least it’ll get a partial charge,” Sam sat with his arm in the sun and the others joined him. “I wasn’t planning to keep David with us all this time.”  
“But, kind of hard for a traveling minstrel show to turn down an additional guard in the blasted lands,” Rafe smiled at the mage. “We need to make plans and I’m not sure we can trust him.”  
Mika looked back at the cabin and shrugged, “He accepted the fact that the company was made up of bards, minstrels and disillusioned magi without as much as an eye roll. He might be more amendable to our situation than we know. Has anyone asked him?”  
“No,” Rafe answered curtly. “But we’ve all seen you checking out his ass when you think we’re not looking. Just because you like him, doesn’t mean we can trust him. There’s a hell of a lot riding on us all.”  
Mika got up and stomped her way to the other side of the small grove, making rude gestures as she did.  
“Well done, Rafe. Go apologize and get her back here. You’re right we’ve got to make some plans. We have no idea how fast things will go once we get to town or what kind of opportunity we’ll have to get Dean and get out.” Sam was worried, although they’d meet up with Gabe in town he was essentially flying blind and other than breaking Dean out of the jail at the priory had no experience in plotting and executing any kind of elaborate escape plan. He and Gabe had agreed to meet in dream space that night and Sam hoped he’d have some kind of plan he could run by the bard so that he could review it against the defenses at the fortress.  
Rafe brought Mika back and the three proceeded to put together a rough plan that Sam would run by Gabe that night, “Has he said anything about others who could be persuaded or purchased to help?”  
“No, but then I haven’t asked. I’ll put it on the list of things we discuss tonight. The main thing I think we’ll have in our favor is that the city will be crowded and all magi know how to disappear into a crowd when it’s necessary,” Sam stretched out his left arm. The sun felt good and he liked the feeling of the energy that the sun provided.  
Mika pulled a book from the bag she wore, “At least the rehearsals for this play that Rafe found are going pretty well. This guy William Shakespeare is really pretty good. I think “The Taming of the Shrew” will go over well at the festival. I’m certain no one’s ever heard of it before this and in a festival atmosphere a comedy will be welcome. We’ll rake in the tips.” Mika looked at Sam who looked pained at that fact that he’d let them take the book from the library.  
“I know, I know. We didn’t have time to copy it but gods, don’t let anything happen to it,” Sam shook his head. “The Master Magi would have our heads for this if they knew about it so try not to let anyone see it once we’re around people again. The last thing we need is to get spotted with a book.”  
Rafe grunted and rolled his eyes, “It’s not like we took it from a priory it could have easily come from the college. We’re not as anal about the books leaving the grounds as you guys are.”  
“Right, but it would still call unwanted attention to us so hopefully everyone will have their parts down by the time we reach the city. Rafe, how are the stage and costumes coming along?”  
“The costumes are just about done, since we stopped early today we can probably get them finished after dinner tonight. The stage is going to have to wait until we get to St. Louis and see what we have to work with. The guys and I have been collecting the material we can without loading down the horses, but we’ll have to do the major work after we arrive.”  
“Okay, no problem. That will allow some of the others to disappear into the crowd and see what they can pick up, if they can pick up anything, about the general tone of the crowd. We’ll have to mimic the others pretty well in order to not stand out more than we will already as a troupe of minstrels.” Sam finished speaking and rubbed at his head, since starting the long distance communications with Gabe he had a slight headache almost all the time. Riding after dream walking was always difficult, but they couldn’t afford the time needed for him to completely recover before heading out the next morning.  
Mika laid a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder, “I’ll make sure there’s tea brewed for after your dream walk, it does seem to help and I made sure we resupplied the ingredients at the last large town.”  
“Thanks, Mika. So, what about David? Any feelings on whether or not he’d be concerned about the legality of a job if it paid enough? It isn’t like we can’t use an extra set of hands and eyes once we set things in motion,” Sam looked each bard directly in the eyes for a few seconds before continuing. “Mika, you claim to be pretty good at getting secrets out of people, see what you find out about David and his background as we travel. If you think he’ll be a problem, we’ll end his employment once we reach St. Louis.”  
Mika nodded and glared at Rafe, “It shouldn’t be a problem Sam. This is the kind of thing I was trained for, and despite what Rafe wants to think I can do this objectively.”  
“Gods, Mika! Can’t you take a joke?” Rafe turned and headed back to the cabin.  
“Rafe! Make sure the students aren’t screwing around too much. There’s still a lot to do,” Sam called at the bard’s retreating back. Rafe waved a hand over his head in acknowledgment.  
“Go, head back. I’m going to sit here a little longer and get as much sun on my arm as possible,” Sam stretched again before settling back against his tree. “And Mika?”  
She stopped and turned toward the mage, “Be careful. You’ve got the fates of us all in your hands with this assignment.”  
The bard crouched so she was eye level with Sam before speaking, “I meant what I said; I was trained for this. We haven’t said so in plain language, but part of a bard’s job is secrets. Finding them, keeping them, telling them….we’re trained in espionage Sam, and I can do this.” Mika kissed Sam lightly on the forehead before turning and jogging back to the cabin leaving Sam alone with his thoughts.

Gabe was able to find lodging at one of the better inns near the fortress. A third degree bard was welcome just about anywhere at any time and a city crowded with folks coming in for the trail of the decade was no exception. He’d have to make an appearance every night in the public room, but that would cover his room and board. Any tips he made he could use to make sure the guards continued to treat Dean better than they would otherwise.  
The weeks on the road had been hard and Gabe had had to keep reminding the sons of bitches to loosen his bindings a couple of times a day and give him water. The bard hated to think of what condition Dean would be in if he hadn’t made a nuisance of himself and paid everyone off to allow him to care for the hunter. They didn’t trust him on horseback so they’d carried Dean in a cart and he, true to his word, was a poor traveler and was sick regularly as they traveled. Without Gabe’s intervention his guards would have let him wear the same clothes and probably would have stopped feeding him hoping to keep him from throwing up all over himself.  
He’d seen the hunter placed in his cell the day before and had made a point to return after singing that night to make sure they didn’t abuse him in any way once he was no longer present 24/7. Gabe also worried that they’d move their prisoner which would make breaking him out an even bigger nightmare than the one facing them now. He waited now as the guards from Mt. Laurel explained to the ones at the fortress that Gabe was the prisoner’s employer and as such was taking full responsibility for the feeding and care of the prisoner as long as he was held captive. The guards had to clear Gabe’s visits with their captain but just like in Mt. Laurel the captain of the guard was more than glad to not have to worry about food and water for the condemned man.  
Gabe was escorted to Dean’s cell, relieved that he was still in the same one as the day before. He handed the food and drink (which had been inspected) through the bars to Dean and sat on the floor outside the cell. As the guard walked away with his back to them, he handed over a folded note. Dean took the note and raised his eyebrow in question.  
“You’re right of course, I think the guards here are a little more educated,” Gabe answered the unasked question. “Bigger city, bigger problems than Mt. Laurel, I’ve noticed this in other cities I’ve worked in as well. Are they treating you all right?”  
The hunter nodded as he drank from the jar of ale the bard had given him, “Still haven’t beaten the crap outta me and as far as I’m concerned that’s still a good thing.” Dean unfolded the note and glanced at it quickly, “So you’re meeting with Sam tonight, tell him I’m doing fine. Don’t mention the trip if you can avoid it, I don’t want him worrying when he needs to be watching his back. How soon?”  
“Not sure, I’ll get more details tonight. He’s bringing the others and they’ve got a minstrel show planned for the festival,” Gabe suppressed a laugh as Dean choked on a mouthful of cheese. “A new play in fact. I’m quite anxious to see it myself. Not too many new things since people gave up on reading and writing. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t taunt you,” this last was said loud enough for the guard listening to overhear. “However once you meet with the Commander of your Federation he’ll see they’ve got the wrong man and we can see the new play together!”  
Dean shook his head at the bard’s tendency to raise his voice and put on a performance for his guards, “That’ll be nice. I’m already sick of this place and feel stupid to have ever left home and Sam. Tell him that. Tell him I’m really sorry I left. That every day without him is…..grey. I miss him.” The hunter was choked up and the bard looked away so he could have a small bit of privacy. “Do you think…..no, stupid idea.”  
“Do I think what?” the bard encouraged.  
“I’m telling you it’s a dumb idea, forget it,” Dean picked up the note he’d set aside and glanced through it again before folding it up and slipping it into his pocket. “It’s just….if this…..thing goes sideways….”  
“You want to see him,” the bard filled in the blanks using the hopeless look in Dean’s eyes as a guide.  
“You know, like a last time.”  
Gabe leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t….don’t give up so easily. He’s going to fight for you. Don’t lose hope now. It’s the strongest thing you can provide to the whole venture.” The bard then stood and stepped back from the cell, “I’ll see you tomorrow about the same time Hunter. I promised I’d keep you until this was resolved and a third degree bard never goes back on his word!” The bard strode toward the gate, his head held high while using every single bit of haughtiness he learned at the college to pass through the guards like a prince rather than a penitent.  
The captive hunter suppressed a laugh. He’d seen Gabe turn his grandiosity on and off over the weeks they’d been together but was still not quite used to seeing the simple man he knew become an arrogant prick with nothing more than a different walk, a deeper voice and the set of his shoulders. He knew that if there was any way at all to turn his situation around that his friends would find it. Dean had never trusted anyone other than his Uncle Bobby, even his father was unreliable and knowing that he could trust Sam and Gabe with his life was more comforting than he’d imagined and he wondered how he’d ever gotten along without them.  
Sam took a last look around the campsite set up outside of the run down cabin, ran a hand through his hair and sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear from Gabe, he did, he was anxious to find out how Dean was and whether or not Gabe thought they had a chance of actually getting Dean out of the fortress without a fight. If they couldn’t get him out in the dead of night in an act of subterfuge, they’d have to risk grabbing him in public. Sam pushed that thought aside for the moment; he really didn’t want to think about the unnecessary death that would accompany a public rescue. With an exaggerated roll of his shoulders Sam turned and disappeared into the cabin for the night.  
It’s hard for him to get comfortable on the small bed. If he stretches out, his feet hang over the end of the bed but without Dean to curl into he doesn’t feel comfortable on his side either. Gods, he thinks, I’m never letting him go again. Blinking away the pinpricks behind his eyes Sam finally settles on his side and let’s his thoughts drift to Dean. The perfect line of his jaw, the quick, easy smile that he tries to hide, the depth of his gaze when they’re alone and words lose their power, the chills that accompany the touch of his calloused hands, the feeling of completion when he’s finally lodged deeply inside him and most of all the overwhelming love that consumes him whenever he thinks of him. Sam’s hard and his cock is twitching in its effort to find a surface to rut against, but Sam pushes that thought away as well. He vowed to JobsGates as he set out on this mission to not achieve orgasm until he was once again with the one he loves. Even as he drifts off he can hear Gabe’s voice echoing in his head and he pushes away everything but the bard.  
“Gabe? You here?”  
“Sam! I was starting to worry.” The dream image of the bard appeared wrapped in his bardic cloak and carrying his guitar.  
“Sorry, the team took a while to settle down tonight. Didn’t want to fall asleep until everyone but the guard was asleep. How is he?”  
Gabe saw the mage as a whole man wearing the crossed blades of a hunter and carrying his quarterstaff. New worry lines were etched deeply into the normally smooth skin of the young man’s face. “He’s unharmed, but has yet to meet with the commander of the Federation. His fate now rests on whether or not the commander has ever met him. I’m still hopeful that he can bluff his way out of these charges all together and all our other plans will be for naught.”  
“What kind of odds do you give that outcome? Really. Don’t try to spare me.”  
“I honestly don’t know Sam. The Federation is more spread out then any of the other orders but Dean has always hunted in this mid land region so there is a pretty good chance they’ve met at least once. The good news is that I think plan A will work. The guards they have on him are no different than guards anywhere and should be easy to distract.”  
“I can always push their thoughts elsewhere.”  
“No, Sam. We’ll need you to save that for the gates. Once we have him, we’re going to have to convince anyone on the gates to open them for us and to forget that we passed through in the dead of night.”  
“Right, I got it. Anything I can do before we arrive?”  
“Keep the others rehearsing, it’s crucial that we come across as a professional troupe. We want people talking about the performance. You and I should both be able to lightly influence the audience to want to talk about it afterwards but I don’t want either of us to spend too much energy on that. How are the sets and costumes coming along?”  
“The costumes are great! We’ve spent a considerable sum on the materials, but Jenna has proven to be an amazing seamstress. The sets are another thing. We’ve painted a few backdrops, but we didn’t want to travel with the material needed for the stage due to the extra weight. Do you think you can arrange that the materials be delivered shortly after we arrive? Do you have the funds necessary?”  
“I’ve been playing at the inn I found near the fortress and I’ve told them that my troupe was on the way so there will be a couple of rooms here for people – maybe the girls. It would be good for people to start to talk about them and the play. The livery has room for a few more but we’ll need to leave guards with the stage and sets. Back on point, yes, the people here have been generous with their tips and I’ve more than enough to continue to protect him and get your supplies.”  
“Good, he’s the priority and we can always send a couple of the others out to cut purses if necessary. Are we about finished? My head is starting to throb, not sure I can hold on much longer.”  
“Yeah, I’ve just got one more thing. I want you to think about this before you answer though, so we’ll meet again just before you get to town. He wants to see you.”  
“Gods. I…..I….don’t….is that wise?”  
“I don’t think so. Too much risk if they find out you’re the cyborg they arrested him for helping, but it’s your decision. He’s afraid he won’t get a chance to see you again.”  
“Tell him…..” Sam was tossing on the small bed and the anxiety he felt at the thought that they’d never be together again bled through to his dream image. “Tell him I love him and nothing is going to stop me from getting to him and getting him out. Tell him this time he needs to trust me.” Dream Sam’s hands flew to his head as a bolt of pain flashed behind his eyes. “I have to go. Look for me in two days. We’re moving fast.”  
Sam’s eyes flew open as he pulled his mind back into his body; the pain behind his eyes a steady pressure that made him feel sick. He nearly knocked the cup of tea over as he grabbed for it. He swallowed the cold mixture down in one gulp and went to the hearth to pour another cup of hot water to which he added the leaves and spices that made up the tea that could relieve his headache. At least the headache took care of his erection, he laughed out loud at the thought that he’d prefer a headache over a hard dick, but these were strange times. He settled back into bed and ran the conversation through his head as he waited for the tea to soothe his head. Gabe’s news had been positive overall and he was somewhat relieved that the bard felt that they could pull off a rescue behind closed doors so to speak. He’d be able to share that news in the morning and he was sure that the others would work even harder to memorize the parts they had to play both on and off stage.  
The thought that Dean had asked to see him tore at his heart. He knew the request was a last request, a just in case this doesn’t work request and he found it hard to wrap his head around the fact that Dean was feeling so desperate. He wished, not for the first time, that he could communicate with his love through dreams the way he could with Gabe and it hurt him to think of how alone he must feel, how scared, even if he’d never admit to it. As he started to fall back to sleep he sent thoughts of comfort toward the image of Dean he held in his mind and hoped that the gods would take pity on them just this once and that Dean would feel his presence.

Liam, the Chancellor of the Bardic Colleges was in rare form that morning and his page Baldric was on the receiving end, again, of the man’s anger even if he wasn’t the cause of the latest delay on their journey to St. Louis and the trial of the decade.  
“Wouldn’t you think that everyone would have thought ahead to have the farrier take a look at their animals’ shoes? No, of course not, that would require a fucking brain and I swear to the gods that brains have become scarce at the college. So here we are stuck in the middle of the gods damned blasted lands with a bard without a horse! Fuck me! What did I do to deserve this gross incompetence?”  
Baldric kept his opinion on that point to himself as he poured more wine for his boss. He knew that his boss was in a worse mood than usual because he still hadn’t found the papers that gave the Bards their raison d’etre, their charter. The documents that essentially secured their place in the leadership tripod that had governed the land since it was founded roughly fifty years after the demon wars had left the world a shadow of its former glory.  
“We are expected to be there before the trial, not after the fucking thing,” the enraged chancellor threw his goblet across his tent in a fit of pique. “Tell the assholes to figure out a way to share horses until we get to some gods forsaken town and can get the lame animal looked at. I do not want to slow down and I will leave the stupid dickhead who couldn’t be bothered with ensuring his animal was sound behind if I have to. Go Baldric! Don’t stand there with your mouth open, you look more doltish than usual that way. Go!”  
The smaller man ducked out of the tent relieved to be away from the unhappy man that he had to serve. As he strode away from the tent to let the others know the latest orders from the pain the ass he served he smiled a little to himself. His ‘oh so high and mighty’ had never thought to ask his lowly dogs body if he knew where the old chancellor had hidden the documents crucial to the survival of their order and that thought almost made Baldric laugh out loud. He’d known for a while now that the Great Fellini never traveled anywhere without the documents after he found them sewn into the lining of his saddle cloth.  
Baldric had spent many nights in his private hidey-hole unpicking the stitching of the elaborate saddle cloth the old chancellor had used until he freed a packet of documents wrapped in oil cloth. He’d opened the package with shaking hands and carefully laid out the papers it had contained on his table. He’d never learned to read, but knew instinctively and without a doubt that the documents he’d found were the very ones Liam the asswipe wanted. The servant didn’t have to think too long about whether or not to hand the papers over to his boss. He’d hated Liam for years; the guy had never once bothered to be even remotely pleasant to the man who had the misfortune to serve as his page/squire. Baldric couldn’t read, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t smart and he decided shortly after finding the documents to keep them to himself. His fucktard of a boss would never even thank him for finding them and he knew he could do better than that. He knew he could always stumble across them whenever he wanted to, but hoped he’d be able to strike a bargain with one of the other sides that would set him up for life.  
The smaller than average man relayed his royal fucktard’s instructions to the other men and went to saddle both his and his boss’s horses. He felt sorry for the grey gelding that Liam rode. The man was a good rider, but didn’t really care about the animal he rode and pulled to hard at the bit and kicked too hard with his spurs. Baldric murmured a bunch of nonsense in a steady patter that most horses responded to as he worked. The grey turned his head, his ears pricked forward and nuzzled at the man’s head while he worked. The horses weren’t stupid, they knew that Baldric usually had a treat of some kind for them and that day was no exception, he had a half an apple that he cut in half again to give each horse a small bite. He didn’t see the point of not being kind to anyone or anything that had no choice in who they served and he liked horses.  
Once he’d finished saddling his own horse, the small chestnut mare, Star, that the old chancellor had always ridden, he led both horses to where Liam was standing shouting at the men who were folding up his tent. They’d only done it a hundred thousand times over the years and yet he was sure they’d somehow fuck it up just to spite him. After helping his boss mount, he pulled himself up onto his own horse, he liked that he could mount her without finding some kind of mounting block or asking for a leg up from one of the other servants.  
“All right you lazy bastards, finish packing up and then catch up to us. I’m not standing around here watching you dick around all morning. You’ll move quicker if you’re worried about me getting too far ahead,” Liam jerked his horse’s head around and kicked him into a trot back to the road. “Gods, Baldric! I didn’t mean you, you fucking dolt. You come with me.” The chancellor rolled his eyes as his servant kicked his horse into a trot and caught up with him. “Why is it, Baldric that I have to explain every fucking thing to you every fucking day?”  
Baldric sighed discreetly he knew his boss didn’t expect him to answer. He did reach down to lightly pat at his saddle cloth to reassure himself that his future windfall was still secure as he moved to the chancellor’s right side and kept his horse just a step or two behind the other man’s so he couldn’t be seen unless the dickhead turned around. The chancellor didn’t like to be reminded of the presence of his servants unless he asked to see them. The dog’s body didn’t mind, it meant he could make whatever rude faces and/or gestures he wanted at the other man’s back as they rode. It was an awfully nice way to spend the day when you got right down to it and Baldric smiled as he adjusted to his horse’s steady gait.

John Winchester had his back to the door as he looked out at the parade space in the center of the fortress. He had some of his men working to raise the stage where the trial and his son’s execution would eventually take place. The commander wanted everyone in the stands to get a good view of Dean’s face as his own father pronounced the sentence he would serve for killing other hunters in order to save a cyborg. He wondered where he’d gone wrong and then chided himself for his mistake. He hadn’t done anything wrong by Dean that was all on Bobby, he was the one who’d coddled the boy. In fact, that’s what they’d fought about when they parted ways. He hoped Bobby had enough sense to stay out of things this time.  
His door opened and he heard the guards shuffling in with their prisoner but he didn’t turn around. “Leave. I’ll handle this.”  
Dean stared hard at the man who had his back to him, the familiarity of his size, of his stance giving him pause. It couldn’t be, he thought. His father had been dead for years and gods knew any hunter who’d been in the game long enough to become Commander of the Federation would have a voice that sounded like he’d spent too much time around campfires and so he dismissed his initial reaction as wishful thinking.  
“So, I’d like to know exactly what goes through a hunter’s mind that causes him to execute his own brothers in arms in aid of…..” John paused allowing his words to echo slightly in the large room that he used as his office. “In aid of a cyborg!” The last word was said with enough contempt that Dean became uncertain of the commander’s identity once again.  
The word ‘cyborg’ hung in the air like fog, the six letters seeming to swim through air that had suddenly become too thick to breathe and if Dean had been less of a man he might have wet himself on the spot. The anger and hatred that the commander was feeling folded in on itself as it focused on the only other being in the room and the condemned man felt a cold sweat break out across his brow and begin to trickle down the back of his neck. He held on to the only thing that could keep him together….he thought of Sam. Of what Sam had risked time and again for him and allowed the quiet grace of the man he loved to reinforce his heart and give him the courage to not break, yet.  
John turned and looked at the prisoner, his son, bound at his wrists and ankles, and yet sitting as tall and proud in his chair as if he’d walked in under his own power and requested this audience. He wanted to admire that, wanted to claim responsibility for the boy’s strength under pressure but he kept his focus on what the boy had been doing and the damage his actions would cause to the power base that John had established since he’d disappeared unless it was addressed head on. He now used the silence that fell between them as a weapon, allowing no sound to intrude on his contemplation of the man in the chair.  
The hunter swallowed hard and kept his eyes on the wall behind the desk he was seated before. Regardless of who was studying him now, he refused to give the asshole the satisfaction of seeing him break. He steadied his breathing, slowing it down to settle his nerves and focused on keeping his spine as straight as possible in defiance of his position. As the urge to throw his body across the room in an effort to take the commander out the window with him passed, Dean allowed himself to remember the vows he and Sam had exchanged before he left. Vows sealed by both the ring he wore as well as the tattoo on his hip and took comfort in knowing that regardless of what happened to him here, Gabe would see that Sam got away safely. The library would protect him and he would be happy there. He felt some of Sam’s strength wind itself around his own as he waited for the other man’s next move.  
“Dean!” The commander had moved closer and shouted the word at the boy who was steadfastly ignoring his presence.  
It took every ounce of his will to keep from turning toward the voice of the man he now knew without a shadow of doubt was his father. “My name is Hunter. Ian Hunter.” He said the words clearly and without a stutter or hesitation.  
John took a step back, walked around his desk and sat so that the prisoner had to either meet his gaze or look down. “Your green eyes say differently, Dean. You don’t think I’d recognize my own flesh and blood even buried under that filthy beard and wild hair?”  
“I’m sure I’m not the only man born with green eyes, who also wears a beard and longer hair,” Dean’s voice was even and his gaze never wavered from his father’s face, his eyes betraying no sign of recognition.  
“Guards!” John stood as he shouted for the men outside the door.  
“Yes, sir?”  
“Take him away and clean that crap off his face and head. I don’t want to see him again until he’s been cleaned up.” John turned his back on the man in the chair careful to not show that he was now questioning his identity.  
Dean kept himself steady and didn’t move a muscle until one of the guards dragged him from the chair. He stumbled but the guard pulled him to his feet before he fell. Dean thanked that elusive god he sometimes believed was listening, for keeping him from sprawling across the floor. The guards loosened the bonds on his ankles and he was able to walk from the office under his own power despite the shaking of his knees. He’d bought time, but how much additional rage would he face once he was returned to face the man who’d sired him. Dean continued to pray that his gods keep Sam safe as he was roughly stripped and thrown into a tub.

Rufus pulled his tired horse to a stop near a very small, but trickling stream of water that supported a couple of willow trees near a bend, figuring it was as good a place as any to make camp that night. John had sent him out of St. Louis with coins for lodging, food and water for both he and his horse, but Rufus had done his level best to spend as little as possible on the way out knowing he’d have to support another horse and another man on the way back.  
After unsaddling his horse he let the animal drink its fill and hobbled him with some grain for his dinner. The cyborg didn’t bother with a fire, he was carrying persevered meat and some hard bread for meals. He was trying to move as quickly as he could without overly stressing his animal. He needed to be back with his guest before the planned execution took place. He knew he still had time, John was determined to have as many people as possible witness the destruction of his only child. Rufus didn’t know how the many he’d grown up with had become so hard and he hoped that he and Bobby could talk him out of such a deadly move.  
Unfortunately, the hunter didn’t know exactly where Bobby had holed up after the last time they’d met. Rufus had been a new cyborg at that time and met his old hunting buddy at one of the smaller settlements while he was turning in his bounty. The retired hunter had sat down at his table that night at the inn.  
“Well, well, well…I never thought I’d set eyes on you again Rufus,” the man who sat opposite him appeared older than his years. The harsh environment having tanned his skin to a deep and leathery brown while the rough life outside the larger towns had contributed to the grey scattered through his hair and beard.  
“Son of a bitch! John told me you were dead, what’re you doing out here?” Rufus wasn’t surprised John had lied to him, he was sure he’d been lying to both he and Bobby for a good part of his life, but he was surprised he lied about Bobby’s death.  
“Yeah. John and I stopped seeing eye to eye on things about five years ago or so. He got this crazy ass idea of becoming the head of the Federation and grabbing control from the bards after he eliminated the Techno-magi,” Bobby gestured to the bar keeper to refill their mugs. “I’d known the bastard was full of himself, but that was just….it was just crazy talk. Still, I’da supported him if he hadn’t decided that Dean was a liability in his crusade and that it was better to let the boy think he was dead than tell him the truth. I couldn’t do that to the boy. Gods know he’d had it tough enough as a kid with John driving him to become little better than a killing machine, but I wasn’t going to contribute to driving the final nail in his coffin so to speak.”  
“Does he know you’re out here?” Rufus asked quietly as he took a large gulp of the very good ale the inn brewed.  
“Does who know? John? No way,” the grizzled hunter took a sip as well and wiped the ale from his upper lip with is shirt sleeve. “I stopped hunting when we parted ways. Hell, I don’t even know what he’s told anyone about me. I told him to leave me out of it and that I’d stay out of his line of sight.”  
Rufus sighed before answering, “He’s told anyone who’s asked that you disappeared on a hunt and are presumed dead. That’s the story for both you as far as the hunter’s in the Mt. Laurel area are concerned. Dean thinks you’re both dead.”  
“Yeah, I knew he was gonna use that story,” Bobby ran his hand over his face. “I couldn’t lie to the boy’s face, Rufus, so I did a disappearing act and came south. I didn’t think Dean would bother coming this far out considering how good the hunting is in the Midwest and figured I could avoid a confrontation. What brings you this far south?”  
Rufus couldn’t admit to his old friend that he’d just completed the two year process of becoming cyborg and he fumbled a bit for a suitable cover story, “I…..yeah, John sent me down on some business at a guild house in Jacksonville.”  
The other hunter shook his head, “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want me to know. I do remember how John can be.”  
“Sorry, man, I’d tell you if I could,” Rufus was genuinely sorry. His foot was easily hidden, but having just John know about it made him a little uneasy. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he’d have felt better if he could have confided in someone else.  
“Don’t sweat it Rufus. Look, I’ve gotta hit the road to make it home before dark, but if you’re ever in the area again, my cabin is about a 2 hour ride northwest of here. You’re welcome as long as you don’t bring John. Do me a favor?”  
“Sure, I imagine I owe you at least one or two,” Rufus smiled at his friend.  
“Keep an eye on Dean. I don’t trust John to not use the boy to further his obsessive desire to rule the territories,” with that Bobby got up and bid him farewell.  
The next morning as Rufus was saddling his gelding he thought he saw a faint trace of wood smoke in the sky to the west. He figured that even if it wasn’t Bobby’s place that whomever lived there might know where his friend’s place was. He wished for the thousandth time since setting out from St. Louis that he’d thought to ask Bobby a few more questions about where his place was located the last time they’d met.  
Once Rufus drew near enough to the cabin to be heard he called out, “Hello, the cabin!” He then pulled his horse to a stop as he waited for a reply. There were a couple of chickens scratching around in the dirt and a dog laying in the shade of a spindly tree so he figured someone was home.  
After a few minutes and just before Rufus was going to hail the cabin again the door opened and his friend, Bobby stepped into the sunlight looking much the same as he did when they’d last met. “That you Rufus? What’re doing all the way down here? Can’t be good news.”  
The cyborg dismounted and led his horse into the cabin’s small yard, “Yeah, it’s me, Bobby and you’re right, the news isn’t good. Let me put my horse up and I’ll fill you in.”  
Bobby had set out a couple of bowls of stew and mugs of ale and the two ate as Rufus brought him up to date on what was happening in St. Louis. He danced around his own involvement in John’s plans, but knew he’d have to come clean before he allowed Bobby to make up his mind to help.  
“So you’re telling me the ass hat plans to execute his own son in order to secure his place at the top of the food chain?” Bobby shook his head wondering how John had wandered so far off the reservation.  
“He did kill at least four other hunters. I’m not saying John is doing this for the right reasons, but Dean did break one of the most sacred vows of the Federation,” Rufus scraped his spoon against the sides of his bowl, making sure he got every last scrap of gravy off its surface.  
Bobby stood, cleared the bowls and brought out a bottle of whiskey, “I think I’m gonna need something a little stronger. How ‘bout you?”  
After downing on shot, Bobby poured himself another couple of fingers if the rough whiskey and sat back down across from his friend, “You did say the hunters weren’t exactly card carrying members of the ‘I follow the rules’ club and they’d raped and tortured the boy’s friend.”  
“His cyborg friend. You know how John is about cyborg, he’s beyond irrational,” Rufus finished his whiskey and went about removing one of his boots.  
“You gotta do that in here? Now?” Bobby protested and waved a hand in front of his nose.  
“Suck it up, man, I gotta show you somthin’ so you’ll understand just how off the res our friend has traveled.” Once his boot was off, Rufus removed his sock, put his cybernetic foot on the table and met his old friend’s eyes.  
“The last time we met, I was heading back to St. Louis after having spent two years in an oceanfront priory in Florida. John took me as far away from the Midwest as he could without endangering my life due to the infection. He dropped me off at the priory gates and told me to find him once they were through with me,” Rufus poured himself another whiskey and took a sip as he watched his friend turning this new information over and over in his mind.  
“John knows you’ve got that foot and he hasn’t killed you outright? Why? It goes against everything he’s ever believed,” Bobby leaned toward the foot resting on his table and was impressed with the workmanship involved in the replacement limb.  
“Power. His long game in this particular case was to get me inside one of the larger priories in the area, the Priory of Scion, and work from the inside to destabilize their leadership by planting seeds of doubt about their leader, the Apex.” Rufus removed his foot from the table and replace his sock and boot.  
“No one but John knows about your foot? How have you kept that secret? I remember the fortress and it’s hard to find privacy to shit much less hide a cyber-part. Shit! He’s executing Dean in public for helping a cyborg and he’s got you hiding what you are so you can work as the inside man for him…..he’s not just off the reservation, he’s forgotten where the fucking thing is located.” Bobby got up and started to pull things from various cubby holes and arranging them on his bed. “How long do you figure it’ll take us to get there and do we have time at all?”  
Rufus felt a rush of warmth that was only partly due to the whiskey in his system. There weren’t too many people in the territories he could have shown his foot to that would then, without being asked, get ready to travel with him to help save the boy they’d both helped to raise. “Took me about eight days to get here; that town we met at got a livery?”  
“Yeah it does. The guy doesn’t bargain though, not too many places to get a horse around here so he doesn’t have to.” Bobby started to put his things into a couple of saddle bags. Once he’d packed his clothes he started to gather his weapons from their various hiding places.  
“John gave me gold. I haven’t used but a fraction of it yet. I’ve got enough to get a couple more horses, even at robber baron prices, and we could move faster and get there in maybe four or five days of really hard riding,” Rufus watched as his friend strapped on his twin blades and started to load himself down with throwing knives and once big-ass Bowie.  
Bobby looked over at his friend, “What are you waiting for? An invitation? Get the horses saddled and I’ll lock up and release the rest of my livestock. We can make town by the mid-afternoon and get on the road tomorrow. Sounds like you don’t think we’ve got a lot of time to fuck around with.”  
“You got that right my friend,” Rufus left to get their horses ready and he hoped he and Bobby arrived back at the fortress in time to at least try to talk their oldest friend out of executing his son just for the sake of power.  
Dean stretched his arms out over his head, smiling at the fact that he was grateful to be back in his cell. His guards had kept him bound as they had cut and washed his hair, bathed him and then finally shaved the beard from his face. They hadn’t been gentle and he was sure he’d have new bruises by the end of the day. The little water they’d used had been cold and they’d laughed at his shriveled cock and balls. Dean had kept his face neutral throughout the whole process and had managed to not make a sound, even as they’d pinched and prodded him trying to get some kind of reaction out of him to give them an excuse to abuse him further.  
He now sat on the edge of his cot and rubbed at his chafed wrists as he thought about the conversation he’d endured prior to his bath. His mind had been reeling since his interview with the Commander and he felt like he could finally start to process the fact that not only was his asshole father not dead, he was in fact the fucking Commander of the Federation. He hadn’t known what to expect when he was half-walked/half-dragged to the Commander’s office, but he hadn’t even begun to imagine that he’d find his father there.  
When John had disappeared five years ago, Dean spent about fifteen minutes mourning his death and then moved on. He knew his father would have expected no less of him. In truth, he mourned the loss of his Uncle Bobby more than the loss of his dad. John had never been very…..Dean rubbed at his face, surprised by the lack of beard as he thought….very, fatherly – yeah he thought, that’s about right. John had always been his commander. Any sense of real caring had been provided by his uncle. He’d never been told if Bobby was his father’s brother or his mother’s, but assumed he was his mom’s brother since he was so different from his dad.  
Dean refocused his mind on the interview with his father….his fucking father! It had taken every ounce of control he possessed to not fly across the desk and drive his head into John’s chin. He’d always known his father was cold, but the man he faced that morning was positively frigid and he knew that he had no chance of escaping his sentence. His father had always been a stubborn son of a bitch, once the fucker made up his mind he stuck to his decision, even if he’d ended up regretting more than a few of them over the years. It was a point of pride with John that he never changed his mind once he’d made a decision.  
In retrospect, the increased bounty on Techno-magi and cyborg now made sense. Three years earlier the Federation had tripled the bounty on the magi and quadrupled the bounty on cyborg. While almost no one in the territories trusted the brothers or any cyborg, no one hated them more than his father did. As a child Dean had asked more than once what the magi did that made them so reviled. The explanation always came down to cyborg. His father had explained that the magi created the process to implant cybernetic replacement parts. That once a man became cyborg he lost all capability of rational thought and became an emotionless killing machine.  
Young Dean accepted this pronouncement from his father as the gospel truth and he’d grown up avoiding the magi who attended the local market days and watching carefully for any sign that they were cyborg and on the edge of madness. It wasn’t until he turned 13 that he thought to question his father’s opinion. He and a group of his friends, all of whom were training to be hunters, found a young female mage alone out of the market area. She’d gotten turned around and lost her way. He and his friends began to taunt her and pressed her to perform some sort of magic before they’d point her in the direction of the market. Dean was giving as well as his friends were and laughed when one of his friends tripped her so that she fell to the ground. He stopped laughing when he saw the fear in her eyes and realized that the magi could feel fear and had emotions. The young girl begged to be left alone and began to cry as one of his friends picked her up by her long hair. Dean was no longer laughing, but he didn’t tell his friends to stop either. As they were getting ready to strip her to see if she was cyborg, despite her claims otherwise, some adults arrived on the scene to see what the boys were up to. The girl, seeing the boys distracted, made a run for it and got away. His friends were angry and didn’t hesitate to let the men who’d interrupted them know they’d let mage and possible cyborg at that, get away. Dean on the other hand wasn’t angry about her escape, he wasn’t necessarily happy about it either but something in her eyes had affected him and he hadn’t wanted participate in her humiliation any longer.  
When he got home that night he told his father and uncle about the incident over dinner. His father had wanted to find the men who’d given the mage a chance to escape and beat them senseless for giving her the advantage, even if they’d done so without realizing what they were doing. His uncle, however, was quiet through the meal. Later in the evening his uncle asked him to walk with him. Bobby had told him that there was never any honor gained in attacking anyone or anything that was weaker than you were if they hadn’t attacked you first. He told him that a true hunter hunted only those whose purpose was destruction and that attacking a mage minding his or her own business was as dishonorable as attacking a child or drowning a kitten.  
Dean had asked, weren’t all magi by definition destructive? The answer had surprised him at the time, but he knew now it was the truth. Bobby had told him that he would encounter evil, destructive people from every walk of life and conversely, that he would meet good, kind, helpful people as well. His uncle said that his mother had grown up believing that there was good everywhere if you looked for it and he encouraged his nephew to not make decisions about people based solely on one attribute. Dean had never forgotten that, even if he had taken his share of magi bounties. He’d never hunted a mage who was smaller or weaker than he was, even if that was bending his uncle’s rule slightly. After meeting Sam, he’d finally understood exactly what his uncle had meant and he’d never take the life another mage again.  
Sammy. He hoped to the gods that he kept a low profile once he got the city. He’d remind Gabe that it wasn’t safe for Sam here. Maybe he could wait out of town and he was absolutely going to refuse to see him, it was foolish to think he’d be able to walk in and out of the fortress unchallenged; the chance of discovery was too great. Nothing would please the fucker in charge more than to have the very cyborg Dean had helped executed at the same time they executed him. He looked at his hands and twisted the ring on his left hand. At least they’d redressed him in his own clothes and Gabe was bringing him food. He didn’t want to take a damn thing from the fucking bastard who’d sired him. He’d go to his death clear of any debt he owed his fucking asshole father.  
The pounding on the bars of his cell woke him from a dreamless (for once) sleep. He was slightly disoriented and wondered briefly if he’d slept around the clock.  
“You’ve got a visitor, Hunter,” the guard walked back to his position at the door.  
“Dean! What happened?” Gabe was alarmed, without the beard and hair it would hard to maintain that Dean was Ian in front of anyone who’d knew him.  
“Hey Gabe, yeah,” Dean ran his hand over his beardless face as he moved to the cell door, sat down cross legged and indicated that Gabe should sit as well. “Have you ever met the Commander?”  
“No, no reason that I would. Why?” Gabe passed the food and drink he’d brought through the opening at the bottom of the cell door.  
“Thanks,” Dean accepted his meal and set it aside. “The Commander is my father.”  
Gabe stared at Dean in disbelief, “Are you sure? You haven’t seen him for what, five years?”  
Dean nodded as he spoke, “Yeah, I’m sure it’s my fucking father. He recognized me right away. I didn’t give any indication that I knew who he was, but he knew. He knew before he saw me.”  
“Shit! Of all the….I’ll have to reach Sam. He needs to know.”  
“He needs to stay away. Gabe, it was my father that increased the bounty on magi and cyborg. He hates them with a passion unlike anything I’ve ever seen in anyone for anything,” Dean picked up the jug of ale and sipped to ease the dryness in his throat, “It’s too big of a risk.”  
“Keep your voice down. I’ll pound at his defense wall until he lets me in tonight and I’ll tell him you don’t want to risk him, but Dean, he’s his own man and is going to do whatever it takes to get you out,” plus he was integral to the plan Gabe continued in his head.  
“I know, he’s stubborn.”  
“No, he’s determined and he loves you. When will you face the Commander again?”  
“I don’t know. Tommorrow?” Dean opened his package of food and picked that the cheese and meat it held.  
“Any chance he’ll speed up his time table? I want to let them know if you think that’s a possibility.”  
“It’s anybody’s guess, but odds are he’ll stick to the plan. This is a fucking big deal to him and he’ll want the maximum political capital my execution will buy,” the hunter had no appetite but forced himself to continue to eat so that his anxiety didn’t bleed through to the bard.  
“I did really well last night at the inn and I played at market this morning, I’ll see what it’ll take to get in to see you again tonight. I also picked up a couple recruits to assist with the construction of the stage. One of them I know from the College in Champaign, he’s a funny little guy, but trustworthy. We’re going to need a few people who we can trust that are not associated with the library to keep our ruse going while we put things in order. We’ll see what we can do to speed up our own timetable. The sooner we…..” the bard didn’t voice the rest of the sentence. “I put dessert in your package today.”  
“Thanks Gabe. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. Do your best to keep him out of it. It will be easier for me to die knowing he’s still free and alive,” Dean finally found the note the bard had enclosed in the package under a small pie. He slipped the paper into a pocket.  
“If I can’t get in late tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time. Hopefully I’ll have news,” Gabe rose and started to walk away, but turned back, “don’t lose hope, Hunter. It’s your strongest weapon against hate.”  
The hunter listened as his friend’s footsteps echoed down the corridor. He waited until he heard the door shut before moving back to his bunk with his meal. He pulled the note from his pocket carefully. It was slightly stained from being under the pie and he had to squint at the small printing. It read, “Plan in place. All know their parts. Troupe arrives tomorrow. We need 10 days.”  
He tore the note into small pieces and swallowed them with a sip of ale, ten more days, maybe seven if they could speed it up, before they’d make their attempt at getting him free. He wondered how things would change after he faced the fucking asshole commander of this fucked up Federation again. Dean thought about Sam, truth was he was almost always thinking of him, and he prayed Sam would do the smart thing and stay away. Although he knew in his heart that Sam wouldn’t stay away. He knew because he wouldn’t be able to stay away if their positions were reversed. That being the case, it was up to him to keep his feelings for Sam buried. His father couldn’t know how much the other man meant to him or he’d move heaven and earth to destroy him.

John paced his office as he waited for the guards to bring the prisoner, his own fucking son, back for additional questioning. He’d known as soon as he saw him the day before that it was Dean hiding behind the hair and beard and had instructed the guards who bathed and shaved him not to be too gentle. The Commander couldn’t believe that his son had denied him to his face. He was not only his Commander, he was his fucking father and he wasn’t going to take Dean’s callous disregard of his authority sitting down. His kid had always been a little too mouthy and more than a little cocky. Not the worst attributes for a hunter, but a good soldier respected authority and Dean had never been one to bow to anyone or anything. He sat at his desk as he heard the rattle of chains approaching.  
Once the prisoner was secured in the chair in front of the desk, John locked eyes with his son and silently dared him to be the first to look away. The seconds dragged into minutes as the two stared at each other silently. Neither man willing to give the advantage to the other. John noted the new bruises on Dean’s face and was pleased that his men had roughed him up as instructed. He hoped they bound him tightly enough to make this encounter as physically uncomfortable as it would be emotionally uncomfortable for the boy. Yeah, John laughed to himself, he was still an arrogant little prick and he figured he’d have him broken before the end of the next couple of hours.  
Dean breathed deeply and evenly through his nose using the ritual breathing of the katas to focus his mind away from the discomfort of the ropes and chains and on the asshole who’d given him life. The only weapons at his disposal were his wit and his courage and he was determined to not let the fucking asshole Commander get the better of him too easily. He could tell that John was becoming impatient with the stare down; he could see the small muscles in his jaw twitching, a sure sign that he was becoming agitated. A younger Dean would have seen that as a sign of danger and an imminent beat down, today he saw it as a partial victory in the power play unfolding between them. The hunter didn’t particularly care what kind of beating he took at his father’s hands as long as it distracted him from asking questions he didn’t want to answer.  
After another couple of long, intense minutes John pounded his hands on his desk, making the younger man jump slightly. “If you think that this fucking stupid little game of yours has given you any kind of a fucking advantage, you are going to be gods damned disappointed.”  
The Commander got up and pulled his son’s head back using the short hair left on the top of his head, so that he was looking straight up at him. Furious that the boy still hadn’t spoken a word, much less made a sound, he slapped him as hard as he could, which knocked the chair over and drove the boy into the floor. He righted the chair, finally satisfied by the small grunt of pain Dean made as he threw him back into the chair.  
“You’d think you’d have fucking learned your lesson by now. Your infantile games don’t do anything but piss me off even further. Don’t think I won’t remember every one of them as I order your punishment for your gross disobedience to the Federation and its rules,” the Commander slapped the back of his boy’s head as he moved back around to the other side of the desk.  
Dean cursed at himself for allowing the one small sound to escape but relaxed his face as his father took his seat again. He was determined to make the fucker work for every sound he beat out of him and he resumed his cold, emotionless stare.  
Rather than locking eyes with the child sitting in front of him, John busied himself by going through his drawers as if he were looking for something important. He hoped that his blatant disregard of the game would make Dean give it up, but knew in his heart that the boy was more like him than he’d ever admit and was stubborn to the core.  
“Look son, we can do this the hard way and I can beat you until you agree to be reasonable or you can save yourself some wear and tear and show me the respect I’ve earned,” John finally looked up into the emerald eyes that were as cold as the gem they resembled. “I can and will make things easier on you if you give me the chance.”  
Dean couldn’t hold back the laugh that burst to the surface and was surprised at how good it felt. He watched the red creep up his father’s neck and through his face as he struggled to control his anger, “Easier for me? That’s a fucking a joke and you fucking know it. You’re going to execute me, what do I care if you beat the shit out of me first. I can only die once you fucking moron.”  
John had his hands around Dean’s neck before he even realized he’d moved, “You haven’t a fucking clue how miserable I can make your last days on this sorry earth.”  
The Commander threw Dean across the small room into one of the concrete walls and then picked him up off the floor using the hands that were tied behind his back, jerking roughly at the rope so that it bit into the tender skin on Dean’s wrists as he dragged him back to the chair. He paused as he wrenched him to his feet and yanked the sliver ring off of his hand.  
Dean leapt to his feet as soon as the asshole released him and threw himself at the older man, catching him in his side and using his weight and momentum to drive his father to the floor. “Give. That. Back.”  
He ground the words out, knowing he’d given up any advantage he’d gained by admitting that the ring meant something to him. He couldn’t stand the thought of the asshole touching the ring, contaminating his only link to Sam. It was as if John took his sanity along with the ring and even bound as he was Dean worked to cause the fucker as much hurt as possible. He bit down hard at the fleshy part of his upper arm and shook his head as if he were a dog shaking a rabbit.  
“Guards! Get in here! Get him off me!”  
The guards had to repeatedly hit Dean before he would let go and he was pleased to find that he’d managed to draw blood. Once back in the chair they used additional rope to tie him more tightly to the chair. In fact, they tied him tight enough that he had to draw only the shallowest of breaths and it took some time before he felt like he was back in control of his emotions.  
“So this trinket means something to you. Good to know. Also, good to know you’re still a fucking hothead who can’t keep his cool in a longer confrontation,” John spoke as one of his men finished dressing the wound on his arm. “You will pay for fucking drawing blood. I expected you to fight back, but I didn’t expect you to fight like a fucking girl. You disgust me in so many ways that I wouldn’t know where to start listing them.”  
Dean kept his face still; he could still taste his father’s blood. As he stared at the floor he could feel blood from his head trickling down his neck and his ears were ringing from the punches he’d received from both his father and his guards. He slowly raised his head and met his father’s cold stare, hoping that there was still blood on his mouth, “It doesn’t mean a thing. You surprised me, that’s all.” Sorry, Sammy, he thought.  
“You’re lying. I could always tell when you lied,” John turned the ring over in his hands and went still.  
The younger hunter had been getting ready to spit out a reply when he saw his father’s expression change from cheerful victory to ‘what the fuck’ and he bit back his words in favor of watching the old man’s face. This was new and it could possibly work to give him back the advantage.  
John swallowed hard as he slipped the ring over the third finger of his left hand. It was a perfect fit just as he knew it would be. Gods damn that bitch Devora, he thought. He was still sure there was no way his younger son was alive despite what the Apex had said. The boy had been too sick, too damaged to make a recovery. John was now sure Devora had just taken his things and sold them rather than bury them with the infant as he’d requested.  
His voice cracked slightly when he spoke, “Where did you get this ring? I want the truth Dean and I will make some concessions to you if you answer me without further lies.”  
This was interesting, Dean thought. It was obvious he recognized the ring but a quick search of his memories didn’t reveal anything to the younger man, he’d never seen the ring before Sam had put it on his hand. Dean hoped he could deflect John’s interest and prayed his poker face was up to the task, “Pawn shop in Mt. Laurel, I liked the look of it. It cost me a couple of week’s bounties. It’s the most valuable thing I own after my blades.”  
The Commander locked eyes with his son again and searched for any sign of a bluff. It was certainly possible that the boy found it in a pawn shop if Devora had double crossed him and sold it, but he knew his son and the boy he knew never cared for jewelry of any kind. It was unlikely he was wearing a ring just because he liked the look of it. “You and I both know that’s a lie. You never had any use for decorations of any kind.”  
“Yeah, that’s true, but it’s been five fucking years since you walked away from me and let me think you were dead. People change, I changed. Sue me.” Dean composed his features into his very best ‘I don’t give a shit’ face and continued to stare at his father’s eyes. “You have no fucking clue what I am or what I think anymore.”  
“Finally a fucking truth from your lying mouth, you’re right, I don’t fucking know you anymore because my son would never been seen in the company of a mage, much less a fucking giant of a cyborg. You disgust me and it’s clear that you are no longer the man I raised you to be,” John continued to twist the ring on his hand as he contemplated his options.  
He realized that the man sitting in front of him in no way resembled the boy he remembered, but he was certain that his stubborn bull-headedness wasn’t a bluff. He and Bobby had drilled him over the years in keeping his own counsel and not letting anyone see anything other than you wanted them to see. The boy had always been good at schooling his features into nonchalance and could bluff the most hardened card players before he was fourteen. It was clear he’d improved while they’d been apart.  
Dean watched his father closely looking for even the smallest movement of his face or eyes that could give him a hint of why Sam’s ring meant so much to him. He thought he caught a look of sorrow cross his eyes as he glanced down at the ring, but it appeared and was gone too quickly to get any kind of read from it. He decided to ask Gabe if he knew anything or if there were any way he could find out just why this small piece of sliver mattered so much to the Commander. He realized he’d been asked a question, but hadn’t heard it – rookie mistake, he thought. Still not saying a word he returned to the present.  
“I asked you a fucking question! Do you think you are above answering to your father and the Commander of the Federation?” John was practically spitting the words across the desk the infuriating man still tied to the chair. “I asked you, you stupid piece of shit, if I was going to have to have you beaten in order to get a truthful answer out of you, but I have my fucking answer! Guards!”  
The men assigned to take him back to his cell dragged him to his feet and released the chain from the ankle shackles so he could walk before they started to push him toward the door. Their Commander’s voice stopped them.  
“Wait, I can’t let his attack go unpunished, give him ten lashes and keep him on half rations until I call for him again,” John smiled at the slight tightening of Dean’s shoulders. “Now go, get the asshole out of my sight before I decide to kill him myself for biting me.”  
Only when he was back in his cell did Dean finally make a sound. He moaned in pain as he lay down on his stomach on the hard bench he had for a bed. His back burned and he could feel the blood running down his sides and pooling in the small of his back. Tears had been leaking from his eyes starting with the third lash but he’d kept quiet knowing that the sadists assigned to the task would enjoy his pain a little too much. Despite the new bruises on his face and the cuts and bruises on his back Dean, felt like he’d held his own against his father. He’d almost given everything away when the fucker had taken his ring, but he thought he was able to cover well enough that John didn’t know exactly how much pain he’d been able to inflict with that one non-violent act. He let his thoughts wander back to the night Sammy gave him the ring and allowed the memory of that night to soothe him into an uneasy sleep.  
Devora enjoyed shopping almost as much as she liked ruling the Order of the Techo-magi. The irony of the fact that it was a form of hunting wasn’t lost on her and she laughed at the thought of any of the hunters she’d ever encountered actually walking into any of the shops she visited to order clothing. Her guards, Jeremy and his twin Joshua rolled their eyes at each other behind her back. They were both used to her fickle moods and the laughter or curses that came with them. At least when she was laughing she wasn’t venting her frustration on either one of her hand-picked guards.  
The boys knew their unique position had more drawbacks than advantages, but being chosen to be one of the Apex’s private guards was considered an honor and no one had ever refused. Of course, Devora was probably the most unstable Apex the order had had in the last half century and the duty was considered hazardous. They were standing outside the latest of the dozens of shops their boss had visited that day, each loaded down with packages even though the bulk of her purchases would have to be delivered in the next few days.  
“So why do you think she decided she needs all this shit anyway,” Jeremy asked his brother as they watched the people rushing around the busy town center.  
“She believes that the more feminine and ‘helpless’ she appears, the greater her advantage when she meets with the Chancellor and the Commander. She’s never shied away from using sex to distract others in negotiations or in conversation for that matter,” Joshua was focused on a medium sized crowd gathered around a couple of speakers, possibly bards judging from the pots provided for tips. “Check that out, there to your left. What do you suppose is going on?”  
“Probably some troupe advertising their show or just shilling for tips. I’ll go see what’s going on, you stay here so she doesn’t tear our heads off for leaving her alone.” Jeremy placed his parcels on the ground and started to head in the direction of the crowd.  
“Hey,” Joshua stopped him. “Keep a channel open and let me know if I need to get her out of here quickly.”  
Jeremy waved a hand indicating he’d understood and headed off to join the crowd. His height gave him an advantage and he had a pretty good view of the action as he joined the other spectators. There were three bards in costume, two women and a man. The girls were wearing low cut bodices and full skirts, definitely dressed for a party or a performance. The make up on all three players was exaggerated and the crowd was laughing at their expressions as well as at the words and actions of the trio. The dialogue was a bit strange and the guard felt lost, having arrived near the end of the short performance.  
“Thank you all so much for your attention!” Jenna, Elisa and Jason all bowed around the circle that had formed. “If you liked that little sample of our show, make sure you attend one of the full performances which will start in three days.”  
Jason took up the patter, “The story is The Taming of the Shrew and it is a new play by William Shakspeare, an undiscovered talent. You won’t want to miss your chance to be one of the first to see this bard’s comedy!” Both Elisa and Jenna were making the rounds with their pots collecting tips from the appreciative crowd. “Our stage is being erected in the open field at the southwest corner of the fortress. There will be plenty of room and admission is free! All we ask is that you spread the word and tip what you feel our performance was worth to you!”  
An air of excitement ran through the gathering. It wasn’t often that a troupe debuted a brand new work and everyone was already making plans to get themselves to one of the performances so they could be among the first to see and talk about the new show. “Make sure you tell your family and friends! This is a rare opportunity and shouldn’t be missed while you’re in town for the more serious business at the fortress. Treat yourselves to a night of laughter and fun and have a story to bring back to your villages!”  
Jeremy sent a silent message to his brother, “As we thought, just a troupe of bards advertising their show. I didn’t see the whole presentation, but it looks good.”  
“Maybe the queen bitch will want a night out and we’ll get to see it,” was Joshua’s response. His twin laughed.  
“We should be so lucky! It’s a new play and the girls are pretty. I’m going to introduce myself.”  
“Don’t take too long, who knows when she’ll decide she’s finished in there and she won’t like you talking to pretty girls.” Devora claimed she preferred Joshua’s company at night, but the boys knew she didn’t bother to try to tell them apart and they both responded to Joshua if she singled them out for the night.  
“Let’s hope she never catches on to our deception,” Jeremy laughed at the thought of Devora realizing they’d been playing her and then sobered up just as quickly. “She wouldn’t be kind or merciful to us if she knew.”  
“She’s too self-centered. As long as we keep her happy she’ll never question our identities. Still, don’t be too long.”  
Jeremy hung around as the crowd thinned out and then approached the player. “Well done! I joined the crowd late and didn’t get to see the whole performance but I liked what I saw.”  
“Thank you,” Jenna curtsied and smiled at the tall, dark haired young man. “If you joined at the end you know where you can see the whole performance.”  
“Yes, indeed. I hope my employer will want to see the show. I must have missed the part where you said what time the show started,” Jeremy thought the small red-head was cute. The freckles on her cheeks peeked through her stage makeup and her blue eyes were clear and full of laughter.  
“Starting three days from now we’ll be performing Tuesday – Friday at dusk and at midday on Saturday and Sunday. Monday is our day off. Keep an eye out several of us will be setting up short previews of the work over the next few days all over the city. Spread the word, we’d like to share this new work with everyone.”  
Jason added, “We’ll be doing the scene again in about a quarter hour, you’re welcome to stick around until then.”  
“Thanks, but I’ll have to go back to my employer, but I will definitely spread the word about your work. From the little I saw it looks entertaining,” Jeremy waved as he headed back to where Joshua was still waiting for Devora to finish ordering the poor shop girls around at her latest stop.  
“Think she’d like to go?” He asked his brother as he handed him a cup of ale he’d purchased on the way back.  
“Thanks. Who knows? She’ll say yes one minute and no the next. You know how she is, but she intends to be seen while she’s here and this would be a good opportunity to get any number of eyes focused in her direction. Once her gowns are ready we can mention it, she’ll be dying to show them off and will probably consent,” Joshua gulped down his ale. Devora would pitch a fit if she saw them actually enjoying themselves waiting for her. “Finish that quickly and take the mugs back before she’s finished.”  
Jeremy shook his head as he downed the rest of his ale and jogged to the seller to return the mugs. He wondered to himself if he could get a little free time in the next couple of days and track down the troupe again. He wouldn’t mind talking to the pretty little red-head, whose name he’d forgotten to ask. Traveling with Devora and being at her beck and call had definitely stunted his ability to flirt effectively.  
Once he returned, he and Joshua didn’t have to wait much longer for their boss to come storming out of the shop complaining about the quality of the merchandise as well as the service. Jeremy noticed it hadn’t stopped her from buying a number of items despite her condemnation.  
The boys picked up the assorted parcels and redistributed them before following their boss down the high street as she searched for the next business she could terrorize. “Has she talked any more about what she’s planning to accomplish by being here for the execution?”  
Joshua looked at his brother’s genuinely puzzled face, “I really don’t think she had a choice about being here if the Chancellor and Commander are going to take her seriously. Not showing for the execution would make her look weak, considering her plan to frame Winchester for the murder of Fellini didn’t go quite as planned she still has two leaders to eliminate if she wants control of everything.”  
“Do you think she can do it? I mean, the reality is that no one trusts a mage. We’re here as guards for a wealthy widow after all. Will anyone willingly follow her rule even if she manages to put the other orders out of the picture?”  
“Given that we have overall control of all knowledge outside of the arts, I think they’re stupid to not follow her lead. All she’ll have to do is demonstrate some of the “magic” we’ve discovered and half the population will wet themselves as they line up to do her bidding. The others can be beaten into submission once she gets control of the Federation.  
Don’t worry so much, she’s a lot smarter than she lets on and it’s safe to assume she’s got all the angles covered or she wouldn’t be making her move,” Joshua gave his brother a friendly pat on the shoulder and picked up his pace to keep up with Devora.  
Jeremy wondered, not for the first time, exactly what role he and his brother would play once their boss had control of everything and couldn’t repress the shiver that spread through his body at the thought. Devora was ruthless and not above using even an injured infant in her plans for herself so he carefully shielded his thoughts from his brother and ran to catch up. He prayed to JobsGates that he could find a way to work himself free of the witch before she decided he was no longer of any use to her.


End file.
